Ten Twenty-Four
by MoDaD
Summary: Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is. (Part 25 of 25. Complete.)
1. Prologue

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Story Warnings: Moderately descriptive violence, brief profanity  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**PROLOGUE – CHANCE FURLONG**

The makeshift cell was filled with the echo of another dull thud as the bottom of Lt. Felina Feral's olive-colored, water-resistant, leather combat boot collided with the unwavering, steel-reinforced door that trapped the two occupants within.

Well, more-so the Lieutenant, Chance Furlong thought to himself, as both his wrists and ankles were chained, which had made the cell a formality until his two would-be rescuers had arrived. Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs and Enforcer Lieutenant Felina Feral had abruptly appeared before him. Admittedly, they were not the rescuers he'd expected to see.

_Then again, who would I have expected to see? Probably Jake, using that genius intellect of his to come up with some kind of plan to get away from whatever Viper was having him do…_

Chance had been stuck in this underground nightmare of Dr. Viper's for days. He and Jake had been lured into a trap that seemed obvious in hindsight, following a distress call while testing out some of the Turbokat's new weapon systems in the desolate and remote Felidae Ergs. The distress call was on the same encrypted frequency the two used for their communicators, which meant a possibility, though remote, that it was the Deputy Mayor in need of help. Despite being a thousand miles away from Megakat City, they had felt compelled to investigate. If there was one chance in a thousand it could have been Callie, they needed to act on it.

But, it hadn't been Ms. Briggs. It was Dr. Viper, who had reverse-engineered their signal, and lured them to the abandoned, underground Puma Dyne test location simply known as SITE B, which was now serving as a factory to make monsters.

Those monsters, which Viper had called Shriekmen, looked like hairless cadavers. They were completely featureless, aside from the rows of jagged, sharklike teeth that made up the gaping trap that was their mouths. Chance had briefly wondered how it was they viewed the world, as they lacked eyes. But, those thoughts had disappeared quickly as both he and Jake had been ambushed as soon as they stepped foot into the musty, out of place lobby near the entrance.

In an act of desperation, he had fired a 40 mm high explosive grenade from his Glovatrix at a group of the approaching monsters that were blocking the exit. It wasn't the type of anti-personnel weapon he'd normally choose, as whomever was on the receiving end wasn't likely to survive, let alone be found in one piece. The effect on the Shriekmen didn't result in anything different, as the grenade exploded amidst the group. It had sent a small shockwave of guts and body parts mixed with a black substance that reminded him of the cheap 10W-30 synthetic they frequently used for oil changes at the garage.

They would have been in the clear, if the grenade hadn't also jostled a large metal support in the ceiling, which had come crashing down on his head. Thankfully, it wasn't something as large as an I-beam, and just as thankfully he had been wearing his helmet. But it was enough to knock the two down. Just long enough to be swarmed and taken captive by the Shriekmen.

Another grunt of exertion interrupted Chance's own self-directed frustration as the Lieutenant's boot thunked the door again.

Chance suspected from her growing irritation that she felt the same way. Upon Lt. Feral's and Callie's arrival to save Chance, Dr. Viper was in cuffs. But, being the wily snake he was, Viper had managed to knock Felina to the floor, and then casually leave the room, locking the group inside. By the time the Lieutenant had regained her bearings, it was too late.

Chance adjusted his voice to sound more confident than he really felt. For whatever strange reason, Dr. Viper had left the mask, and to everyone else that made him T-Bone: the SWAT Kat.

_T-Bone doesn't get scared in a crunch like this._

"I don't think it's going to give," T-Bone said.

The Lieutenant took a step away and then harshly drove her shoulder into the door. It did not budge. She sighed and leaned her back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor.

"I was starting to suspect that," Lt. Feral said, slightly out of breath. She brought up a forearm and wiped the sweat off her brow, being careful to avoid a small bandage that was there.

"We'll just have to wait for Callie to get around to the other side," T-Bone said.

The Deputy Mayor had already managed to squeeze her way out of a small drainage pipe that the Lieutenant couldn't fit through. That had been at least an hour ago, though, and with each passing minute his concern grew.

He realized he was tapping his foot impatiently, almost nervously, and he forced himself to stop.

"I shouldn't have let her go," Lt. Feral said, leaning her head back until it touched the wall. Her eyes were closed.

"If there's one thing I've learned about Callie, it's that she doesn't take too kindly to being told what to do," T-Bone said, trying his best to hide the worry nagging in his mind. "Sometimes, you have to know when to rely on others."

"You say that like it's some kind of motto," the Lieutenant said, opening her eyes.

"I didn't always think that way," T-Bone said. "I had a hard time trusting others, and I suppose I still do in some ways."

"Hence the mask," the Lieutenant observed.

"Yeah, there's that," he said with a mild chuckle.

"I guess we'll just have to trust the resolve of the Deputy Mayor," she said.

Worry was creeping forth again, seeping like a poison in his brain.

_I hope she doesn't get stuck, or worse, run into more of those disgusting Shriekmen._

"Though, the only thing I can seem to trust her to do is to get me into trouble," the Lieutenant replied. "She convinced me to take her on this crazy adventure, after all."

"Sorry the rescue didn't go according to plan," he said.

"There wasn't much of a plan to speak of," Lt. Feral said as she stood up, grabbing the M16 that was leaning against the nearest wall.

"What is that, an A4?" T-Bone asked, looking to change the subject. He already knew the answer.

"Yeah," the Lieutenant replied distractedly as she took out the magazine and pulled back on the charging handle to eject the chambered round. She caught it midair in her left hand. T-Bone recognized that as a heavily practiced movement. She checked the weapon over.

"Not exactly standard issue…" he continued.

"No, it's not," the Lieutenant said, "Most Enforcer SWAT teams have M4s with 15-inch barrels and adjustable stocks."

"And you don't?" he asked.

"This is my personal rifle," she said. "I trained on the A2 in BCT, which is pretty much the same as the A4, except for the removable carrying handle. Adjustable stocks never felt quite right to me. The 20-inch barrel also improves accuracy."

The A2 was an older model of M16 the Enforcers used to use, and BCT was Basic Combat Training. T-Bone knew from personal experience.

"Let me guess," T-Bone said. "You've had one too many problems presenting your weapons card to the armorer, and decided to sneak in your A4 to avoid all the red tape associated with stowing a weapon?"

For the first time since he'd seen her arrive, the lieutenant cracked a smile.

"Something like that," she said.

"That violates Enforcer protocol," T-Bone said, returning the grin. "I'm sure the CAG would have you NJP'd if he knew you did that."

"Trust me, what the CAG doesn't know won't hurt him," the lieutenant said. "If it did, he'd have died a thousand times over by now."

"I know the feeling," T-Bone said.

"Oh really?" the Lieutenant asked with a suspicious expression. "And just how would you know?"

"I…uh, read things," he said, realizing that maybe he was getting a bit too familiar. In spite of the current circumstances, he did have a secret identity to uphold.

"Uh-huh," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Some time passed, and T-Bone considered making up something to alleviate any potential suspicions, but before he could the Lieutenant spoke up again.

"This is the second time this year I've wound up in a cell like this," she said.

"Oh?" T-Bone asked.

"A few months ago I was kidnapped by Dark Kat, and he left me to rot in this dungeon of his while he tried to kill my uncle, the deputy mayor, and others," she said. "It was just like this, feeling stuck and helpless."

The Lieutenant kicked her boot against the wall again.

"It's pathetic, really," she continued. "I even have another defeated stranger to exchange smalltalk with."

"I know what you mean," T-Bone said, resisting the urge to say more.

While attempting to track down some suspicious activity related to reclaimed Enforcer Jet parts at the Salvage Yard, he had tailed the Lieutenant as Chance Furlong, shared a few drinks and even gotten involved in a bar fight. During the series of events, he'd discovered Dark Kat's involvement, but was captured alongside Lt. Feral. Unbeknownst to her, the person who'd shared the adjacent cell then was the same one sharing it with her now.

"I'm glad you guys were able to rescue him," the Lieutenant said. "After I made my escape I had to get back to HQ to stop the assassination. Didn't have time to go back."

"I'm sure he understood," T-Bone said, and decided to push his luck. "His name was, uh, Furlong, right? Some kind of mechanic?"

"Yeah, he's a real grease monkey type," she said. "And a bit of a drinker."

"What, a guy can't enjoy a few every now and then?" T-Bone blurted.

"Well, I guess I'm not one to judge," the Lieutenant said, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm no lightweight myself."

"A real understatement," T-Bone said. "Or so I've heard."

"You hear a lot about me?" she asked.

"Only good things," T-Bone lied with a small grin.

"You're not a very good liar," the Lieutenant said.

Before he had an opportunity to come up with a clever reply, their conversation was interrupted.

Someone was on the other side of the door.

"Hey buddy, you in there?" the familiar voice of Razor called.

T-Bone smiled, doing his best to contain his relief.

"No, it's some other guy Viper chained up," T-Bone sarcastically called back.

The lieutenant reinserted the magazine into her M16 and stood next to the door, speaking into it.

"Razor, I've got some stuff in my bag out there that can get us out of here," the lieutenant said.

T-Bone recalled she had complained about leaving her rucksack just outside before her and Callie had entered his cell. An inaccessible backpack full of goodies that might as well have been a hundred miles away.

_Something else that had no doubt been adding to the Lieutenant's frustration…_

"I could use that SMAW, but I don't think you'd survive that, lieutenant," Razor called back.

T-Bone remembered that acronym well. It stood for Shoulder-launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon. A modern day bazooka. It was particularly useful against tanks or bunkers, and would make short work of the cell's door.

_Along with everything and everyone in it…_

"There's detcord in there," Felina continued. "Along with a detonator."

_Now we're talking. For not having much of a plan you sure did pack the right stuff._

After a few moments came Razor's warning.

"Stay clear!" he shouted, followed by a succinct "Fire in the Hole!"

The Lieutenant darted back and to the left of the cell, crouched down and covered her ears with both hands. Unable to do the same, T-Bone gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

His chest and stomach took the brunt of the force. It knocked the wind out of him, the air in the room seemingly imploding.

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and tears seeped from the corners of his eyes as his kidneys rattled. The dust and debris smacked into him, and a heavy object clanged to the ground, inches away from his feet. It was the previously immovable door.

He coughed, the disturbed particles getting caught in his throat involuntarily. He cracked open his eyes slowly, and was just starting to notice a ringing in his ears. Everyone was shouting, and he couldn't quite make out what was being said. What little light there was made the disturbed air look like a polluted haze.

Before he knew what was happening, Razor was beside him, attaching something to the anchors in the floor and ceiling that held his chains. Several dulled pops were echoing in his head, and he realized they were gunshots. Soon after, he felt another thump on his body, and the chains fell down from above.

The muscles in his arms ached. They'd been kept elevated by the chains for days.

"We need to go!" Razor shouted, his voice breaking through the ringing.

In that moment, the world came into focus, and the ringing in T-Bone's ears stopped. There were no more gunshots. Just visible past Razor's freshly created opening was the lieutenant. She had attached a bayonet to the end of her rifle, and with textbook execution had lunged the blade into the chest of a Shriekman. Just as quickly she tore it out and hit another adjacent monster with the butt of the rifle, using skull-crushing force that caused it to collapse to the ground.

Memories of BCT came back to him. T-Bone recalled being screamed at by a drill instructor during a Pugil Stick exercise to swing and lunge the faux-weapon like he wanted to kill his opponent. T-Bone suspected the lieutenant hadn't had that problem.

_Maybe that's why she doesn't prefer the collapsable stock. It'd make a horrible beating stick otherwise._

Now free, he ran forward. The aches in his muscles from being kept in such an awkward position so long disappeared as adrenaline overtook him. Exiting the cell, he found himself in a narrow hallway. A horde of Shriekmen was approaching from each direction. One of them let loose a terrible, shrill screech. It was comparable to nails on a chalkboard. T-Bone guessed it was likely the reason for their name.

Callie was also there. She was back-to-back with the Lieutenant, and had just thrown what looked to be an empty MP5 sub machine gun at the nearest approaching creature.

"That way!" T-Bone ordered, seeing an opening. Razor was right beside him, having already seen the adjacent door. He had no idea if it would lead to safety or not, but he knew what would happen if they stayed where they were.

As Razor ran past, T-Bone noticed the Lieutenant still had her sidearm in her holster, unclasped, as she slashed the bayonet across another Shriekman with a loud shout that was a mixture of anger and desperation.

Without a second thought he rushed up to her and grabbed the exposed grip of the gun, bringing the weapon up while placing his left hand over the right, tightening his hold. The white-dotted night sights on top of the Glock 17 lined up perfectly on the nearest advancing target. Once again, memories from the nameless Drill Instructor came flooding back.

_Thumbs forward, thumbs up. The body aims, the sights confirm. Now, pull the trigger._

T-Bone pulled the trigger. A bright flash from the muzzle of the gun lit up the sallow creature, accompanied with an ear-rattling pop from the gunshot. The monster jerked slightly at the impact in its chest, and it just as quickly fell to the floor at his feet. Dead.

"Forget you had this?" T-Bone asked through gritted teeth as he repeated the process, killing several more of the monsters.

"Got caught up in the moment," the Lieutenant said just as she finished clobbering another monster in the head with the butt-stock of the M16. "You use one of those before, I take it?"

It seemed like an eternity had passed since he had stepped foot on the Jonas Spangle Memorial Target Range at the Enforcer Academy to take his qualification exam, scoring 254 out of 300 points. He still remembered it well, as he was just one point away from being deemed a sharpshooter.

"Just like riding a bicycle," T-Bone replied, no longer considering the consequences of his words as he shot two more of the Shriekmen.

_Something isn't right…_

It seemed strange to be thinking that thought, while surrounded on both sides by a small army of freakishly grotesque monsters ready to tear the flesh from his bones. But, it was a thought he still had.

_Why doesn't Razor have that door open yet?_

T-Bone fired several more times, taking just as many steps back.

"T-Bone!" the panicked voice of the Deputy Mayor screamed.

"Callie!" T-Bone shouted, turning his attention, just in time to see one of the monsters bite down on her shoulder, the sharklike smile of serrated teeth disappearing into the dirtied, white shirt she was wearing.

_This isn't supposed to be happening…_

"No!" Razor called out as he rushed toward her, only to be cut off by more of the monsters, causing T-Bone to lose sight of him. There was no longer any room to maneuver. The small hallway was completely overrun.

"Come on, get back!" T-Bone shouted, shooting one of the creatures point-blank in the face, as others grabbed onto his arms and shoulders.

He elbowed one of them in the midsection, and in doing so lost his grip on the handgun. It disappeared somewhere among the naked legs that were shuffling around. The combined force of the Shriekmen was overpowering. They forced him down to the ground.

He let out a scream of pain as one of them bit into his neck. The world was starting to grow foggy. He rolled to his back. Above him, he watched helplessly as the creatures' smiles descended upon him. The last thing he could hear was Callie's scream, as the world started to shake and fall apart around him.

* * *

Chance Furlong hit his head on the small table that served as a combination desk and nightstand as he fell out of his twin sized bed, entangled in a worn plaid comforter and well-used set of pillows that had once been white. The force of the impact knocked over the ten pound cylindrical sedan starter he had been tinkering with before he had fallen asleep. It teetered over and fell onto his outstretched hand.

Chance swore loudly, awash with pain as his fingers were smashed. The throbbing in his head and hand almost distracted him from the fact that the world was still shaking, seemingly in tandem with a thumping noise he could feel in his chest.

_It was just a dream…a dream of a memory. We escaped that place. Callie's okay…_

Those events had transpired about six months prior. Before he could allow himself that relief, there was a large impact, followed by what sounded like an explosion. In his room, illuminated by the dim light of a simple digital alarm clock, he could see the glass frame containing his Officer Candidate School group photo fall off the wall and shatter on the floor.

A klaxon sounded somewhere distantly.

"But this isn't a dream," he said through clenched teeth, certain that his smashed hand and bruised head were products of the conscious world.

He struggled to his feet, tearing the comforter off himself. He lunged forward through the darkness, grabbing the knob of his room's door and nearly ripping it off its hinges as he blew through it.

He almost collided with Jake in the small hallway that separated their apartment-style rooms.

Their living quarters were located in the second story that comprised _Jake and Chance's Garage. _To the outside world it was a humble auto shop that specialized in oil changes and preventative maintenance. Unbeknownst to that outside world, it was also where the SWAT Kats secret hangar was located. It was a fairly extensive underground base, and a project that had forever made Chance swear off the idea of working with concrete ever again.

"We're under attack!" Jake shouted.

"What?" Chance asked. The idea hadn't crossed his mind.

A spotlight abruptly lit up. It was visible out the sliding glass door that led to a makeshift balcony, where salvaged patio furniture that had seen better days rested. The light was coming from the sky.

Chance realized the thumping noise was the sound of helicopter rotors. Big ones.

"C'mon!" Jake shouted as he ran down the narrow stairwell that led to their combination waiting room and kitchen. Chance chased after him.

_Maybe not so unbeknownst to the world after all…_

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the ground shook anew. The pantry doors of the kitchen jostled open, spilling plates and glasses that crashed loudly into pieces on the dirtied tile floor. The refrigerator door flung open as well, spilling a carton of milk. At the same time the small windows of the garage lit up, a large fireball briefly illuminating everything. Decades-old dust was freed from the crevasses of the building's supports. A small crack appeared, spreading from the floor, to the the wall, and up into the ceiling.

Once again, Chance was on the floor, and he groaned as he slowly got back to his feet. He could've sworn he'd felt the whole place shift.

Jake was also on the floor, and he slowly sat up, while placing a hand on his forehead. He was bleeding.

"Hey!" Chance shouted as he rushed over to him, helping him get to his feet. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine," Jake said, a look of annoyance on his face. "That was a bunker buster."

"No way," Chance said. "One of those would've leveled this place."

"It wasn't targeting the shop," Jake said as he walked over to the window, looking outside.

Chance joined him, and frowned at the scene.

Though the spotlight made it hard to see, he could tell the helicopter hovering above at about 30 feet was a twin-rotor CH-47. A Chinook. A military-grade transport helicopter. It's rear access ramp was down, and there were several individuals rappelling down over a smoldering hole in the salvage yard, about a hundred feet away from the garage.

Stacks of crushed cars had been knocked over, leaving the surrounding area a mess. But, that didn't concern Chance. What did was the hole. It was right above the hangar's underground runway.

Chance's fists clenched. He felt a strange sense of violation, combined with embarrassment. It didn't help that all the two were wearing were boxer shorts and A-shirts at the moment.

_We've literally been caught with our pants down…_

He could no longer feel the pain in his head and hand, as he reached down and grabbed the nearest blunt object he could find. Being an auto-mechanics garage, there were plenty, and he picked up a 25-inch pry bar.

He exchanged glances with Jake, wordlessly acknowledging the situation.

_Now's not the time for questions. Think about the why and how later._

The two approached a lone corner of the kitchen where an inconspicuous rug lay. For a moment Chance regretted not keeping any weapons outside of the hangar. With the occasional unexpected visits from Burke and Murray, both he and Jake couldn't completely trust the whereabouts of suspicious items kept above ground.

Jake pulled the rug back, revealing a hardened steel trapdoor. It was secured with a combination padlock. With a well-practiced movement he spun the numbers into place.

_Nine, Twelve, Twenty-Three._

The lock clicked open, and Jake pulled upward on a collapsible handle. The trapdoor opened with a metallic groan, hardly noticeable with the thumping of the helicopter rotors outside. Below, an orange and red light was flickering, as smoke rose up from the hole.

Somewhere, down there, was a fire.

Without a second thought, Chance climbed down the hole, his bare-feet making no noise as he descended the metal rungs embedded into concrete that served as a ladder. The normally calm air was replaced with a crisp breeze, confirming his fears that the Hangar was exposed to the outside world.

Jake followed, just steps above Chance. Neither made it to the bottom before the concrete wall exploded into craters that spewed out debris, followed by a deafening roar of automatic gunfire.

Without thinking, Chance let go of the ladder, grabbing Jake's ankle, and fell the remaining eight feet.

Chance landed ungracefully, banging his shoulder onto the edge of a step at the base of the ladder. He rapidly rolled to his stomach, keeping his head down. The pry bar he had been carrying had fallen from his grasp and clattered off somewhere loudly.

The gunfire continued, hitting a large series of computer displays behind him, sending pieces of broken plastic and glass raining down.

Chance covered his head with his hands as he looked to his right. Jake was taking cover behind a stainless steel workbench, also pinned down. Chance could recognize the report of the weapons fire. They were AK-47 variants, at least a half-dozen of them.

The assault rifle fire stopped, and he could hear several pings of spent brass hitting the concrete floor.

For a moment, everything was silent, though the thumping of helicopter rotors somewhere far above could still be felt.

Jake glanced at Chance, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Chance imagined it was the same expression he had, too.

The nearest accessible weapons were their Glovatrixes, which were stored in full size lockers alongside their SWAT Kat flight suits. Chance's locker, which had "T-Bone" scratched into the front of it, was only a few feet away. But, in order to reach it, he'd have to expose his head and much of his torso. It was already a miracle the small concrete step he was behind had managed to provided any cover at all.

As he tried to formulate a plan, his thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected sound.

He heard footsteps. They were clacking loudly on the concrete floor of the hangar, easily recognizable as heels.

"Why don't you come out of there," a female voice said with a sultry edge.

Chance recognized the voice, and from the look on Jake's face he could tell he did too.

"If you're worried about showing your face, there's no need," the slightly accented voice of Turmoil said. "We're friends here, after all, Chance."

Chance closed his eyes, feeling something he'd rarely felt. Panic. Here, in a place that was supposed to be safe and impenetrable, he was now facing a bad memory he'd hoped would never catch up with him. One of his worst fears he'd always tried to keep suppressed in the back of his mind was unfolding before him. His heart was racing, the pulse in his temples pounding.

_Pull yourself together. Remember your training. Panic never helps any situation._

Chance sighed, forcing himself to calm down, and slowly rose to his feet, putting his hands up, palms facing forward. He opened his eyes, and saw Jake looking at him, confused.

_If I survive this, I owe you an apology, buddy._

Chance looked forward, facing the familiar and complicated enemy that stood 15 feet in front of him.

"Dressed for the occasion, I see," Turmoil said, a small smile forming in the corner of her mouth.

She was wearing the same style uniform he'd last seen her in. It was a form-fitting, off-red outfit, complete with knee-high black heeled boots, a military-style peaked cap decorated in a scrambled egg pattern of red highlights, with a long vampiric cape and epaulettes on the shoulders. A belt with a holster rested slightly sideways on her hip, accentuating her feminine curves. It made her appear equally exotic and intimidating.

_Or, maybe it's the other ones in the room doing the intimidating…_

At either side of her, Chance could see two groups of three women, dressed in an assortment of black combat gear, including cross draw tactical vests full of various assault rifle magazines, sidearms and other devices of war. Each female soldier was aiming a rifle directly at him. As he had guessed, they were using AKs.

Behind the armed group were several other women, dressed similarly, who were going about the hangar, opening storage bays and taking equipment, loading items into duffel bags and rucksacks.

_They're looting the place._

"I could say the same," Chance said, barely containing his anger.

The hangar was in disarray. Several small fires were smoldering where ducts and conduits had been breached. Large and small chunks of concrete were strewn about. A mild breeze was coming from above, and as Chance glanced upwards, he could see a large hole where the ceiling had been. The spotlight of the hovering Chinook occasionally passed through it, creating a distracting illumination that seemed to make the movements of the hangar's invaders appear in a strobe-like effect.

Behind Turmoil and the riflewomen was the Turbokat. It was the SWAT Kats jet: their greatest accomplishment and asset. The result of years of work, blood, sweat and tears, assembled from the excess parts in the salvage yard and Jake's engineering genius. Several of Turmoil's soldiers were climbing about it, attaching some kind of cabling to the jet's various hard points.

"You look surprised to see me," Turmoil said as she walked forward, closing the distance between herself and Chance.

Her armed escort kept the rifles aimed, leaving him no other option than to stand still with his arms raised. He couldn't see Jake anymore.

_Whatever you do buddy, just keep your head down while I try to figure something out._

"You could say that," Chance said, following her with his eyes. "I heard they extradited you back to your homeland."

Turmoil walked with a confident poise, each step audible among the controlled chaos in the background.

"They did," Turmoil said as she walked behind Chance, out of sight. "Getting out of prison is so much easier when you have the home-field advantage."

He kept still, facing forward, determined not to give the shooters an excuse.

_Maybe I can…_

He didn't get to finish the thought, as he felt her gloved hand reach from behind and go across his exposed neck. Like a snake it caressed past his throat, her finger tips now moving across his cheek. He could hear the stretching of leather.

"Pondering a way out of this?" Turmoil asked as she leaned forward, her lips less than an inch from his ear.

He didn't reply, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Despite what was transpiring before him, in the back of his mind he couldn't help but entertain impossible scenarios.

"I'll save you the trouble of worrying about what's going to happen," Turmoil said, and then pulled away, walking forward, keeping her back to him.

"Your associate, Mr. Clawson, can come forward if he likes," she said over her shoulder.

"I'll take my chances back here, Ma'am," Jake called out.

"Very well," Turmoil said. "First, to ease your concerns, I'm not going to kill either of you."

"Well, that's a relief," Chance muttered.

"Don't think it wasn't a tempting idea," Turmoil continued. "Playing on my emotions, betraying my trust, thwarting my plans and allowing me to be placed behind bars."

She turned toward him, holding up an index finger, wagging it back and forth.

"Tisk-tisk," she said with a frown. "If it were anyone other than you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"So, you still have feelings for me?" Chance asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do," she said, her expression hardening. "But not in the way you're no doubt hoping."

Chance frowned.

"You took advantage of my kindness, and then took everything away, leaving me to bask in my own shame," Turmoil said.

Behind her, the cables the female soldiers had been attaching to the Turbokat became taut. The thumping of the Chinook's rotors intensified, and within moments the black jet was beginning to rise upward through the massive hole in the ceiling.

"I am returning the favor," she said.

Chance watched helplessly as his pride-and-joy was being taken away from him. The Turbokat cleared the opening and disappeared from sight.

"Don't look so sad now," Turmoil said as she started to walk away. "There will be plenty of time for that in the coming months."

Chance growled in frustration, as the gravity of the situation finally boiled over in his mind. He didn't care anymore if there were half-a-dozen rifles pointed at him. He didn't care if he got shot, maimed or killed. He just wanted to do something, _anything_, other than stand there like the fool she intended him to feel like.

He darted forward, trying to reach after her. He made it two steps before he found himself on the ground, stars filling his vision. There had been an additional shooter behind him he hadn't seen, and she had clunked the back of his head with the wood stock of the AK-47 she was carrying. This particular soldier, unlike the others, wore a red beret atop shortly cut blonde hair, her expression so cold and distinct Chance couldn't believe he'd missed her getting behind him.

"It's time to leave," Turmoil said to her subordinates.

Chance's vision blurred, his head once again throbbing, but he could see Turmoil reach up to grab a rappel line that was dangling from above.

"Take whatever else you can," Turmoil said. "And burn the rest."

The rappel line ascended upward, carrying Turmoil into the exposed night sky.

The scavengers in the hangar did the same, grabbing onto their own lines that led them up and away. The remaining soldiers lowered their rifles and wordlessly strode off, leaving Chance dazed on the floor. The soldier with the red beret was the last to leave, but not before she took out a pair of grenades from her tactical vest, and causally cast them into opposite corners.

They ignited, and Chance realized they were incendiary. Anything that wasn't already smoldering soon became fully engulfed in flames.

Chance struggled to get up, but could only get to one knee, as the soldiers grabbed their own rappel lines and were carried up through the hole, which was now obscured by smoke. Chance's eyes watered, and he began to cough uncontrollably.

"Chance!" Jake's voice shouted, sounding distorted through the ringing in Chance's ears.

He felt Jake's hands grab him by the shoulders, urging him to get up. Chance stumbled forward, his mind clouded with questions, worries and confusion. Reality was a vague and abstract notion at the moment.

_She took everything. Everything's on fire. I can't breathe with all this smoke. Callie's in trouble. A Shriekman's eating her. The lieutenant's gonna kill the monsters with her bayonet. That's really badass…_

The world once again turned to darkness.

* * *

"Caw!" a voice called out.

Chance's eyes slowly opened, and the first thing he saw was a black bird staring directly at him with empty, soulless eyes. It was a junkyard crow, perched on the hood of a crushed sports-car. From his current horizontal position, it was above him. It rustled its feathers.

"Caw!" it blurted out again, making Chance's head hurt.

"Shut up!" Chance said half-heartedly as he sat up, and realized he was half-naked and covered in dirt. The sky as overcast, and it was still cold. He shivered, crossing his arms.

The crow looked disinterested and fluttered away, leaving a few black feathers in its wake. He watched them fall to the ground. They drew his attention to a trail of drag marks in the dirt that ended where he sat.

"It wasn't a dream," Chance said, recent memory returning to him, followed by concern. "Jake!"

He got up and walked slowly, following the drag marks, meandering through toppled rows of crushed cars and assorted pieces of rusty parts and machinery. His body protested.

"Jake!" he shouted again, and in moments rounded a corner to find the garage in sight.

The building was intact, though their sign had been knocked over. It was laying in the driveway in pieces.

"Over here!" Jake called back. His voice was coming from a large hole in the ground adjacent to the shop.

Chance walked over to the gaping chasm, able to appreciate the damage in the daylight. A cross-section of destroyed concrete and rebar could be seen along the circumference of the hole, with several chunks strewn about. Jake was standing twenty feet below on what was once their secret runway. It now looked more like wreckage of a burned ship.

"From the level of damage, I'm guessing it was probably a laser-guided, hardened penetration bomb," Jake said, observing the damage. "Probably a GBU-10 or 15."

"Jake, I uh," Chance began.

"Though those earlier explosions were probably caused by a strafing run with an auto cannon, probably mounted on that Chinook or maybe a second gunship," Jake continued. "I saw a lot of spent 20 MM casings out there. I think they hit a gas line while trying to disable what they thought were defensive weapons platforms."

Chance closed his eyes.

"Joke's on them, I guess," Jake said. "We don't have any weapons platforms, just suspiciously tall stacks of junked cars."

"I'm sorry," Chance said as he opened his eyes.

Jake looked up at him and sighed. He climbed up a pile of debris that led him to the surface, and now stood next to Chance.

Jake had treated his forehead wound with a makeshift bandage.

"Well, I'm sorry I left you out in the cold," Jake said. "I'm still checking to make sure the building is safe to go back into."

"You're not listening to me," Chance reiterated. "This is all my fault…"

Chance was starting to realize the full consequences of what happened.

"I mean, what are we going to do?" Chance asked aloud. "All our gear, she took everything! She knows who we are, and she destroyed the hangar."

He gestured to the hole as another thought came to mind.

"There's no way we're going to be able to hide this," Chance continued. "We're S.O.L. Jake. Up a creek without a paddle, with holes in the canoe even. Feral's going to find out and throw us in jail."

"And that's not even the worst of it!" Chance was now shouting. "Turmoil has our stuff. She's got the Turbokat, Jake. She's going to do who knows what, using our weapons!"

He sat down, knees just under his chin as he placed the palms of his hands on his forehead.

"And it's all my fault," Chance said, the defeat in his voice more apparent than ever.

There was quiet for several minutes, neither saying a word.

"Did you love her?" Jake asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"What?" Chance asked, caught off guard by the question, as he looked up to meet Jake's eyes from his seated vantage.

"Turmoil, I mean," Jake specified. "Did you love her?"

Chance didn't respond immediately, as memories of that day, years ago when he had been captured, came flooding back. Turmoil had bested him, but not before he'd had the opportunity to showoff as T-Bone in the Turbokat.

Expecting to be tortured and possibly killed, T-Bone was surprised by the flattery and the offer he was given. To join her.

_She appreciated me. She recognized what I could do. I'd broken through whatever preconceived notions she had._

It was a strange feeling, admittedly one that appealed to his ego. But, it was more than that. Ever since he had been kicked off the force, there'd been an emptiness inside him. A hole just as large as the one currently in front of him he hadn't been able to fill. Like an expatriate exiled from his homeland, he'd felt like a stranger in his own life ever since Commander Feral had shouted in his face, blaming him for something that wasn't his fault. Every time he donned the mask, that feeling lessened, but it was still there in the back of his mind.

For some reason, on that day when he looked into Turmoil's eyes, that feeling, if only for an instant, had disappeared completely.

_I belonged with her._

"I don't know, Jake," Chance said. "Maybe I just loved the idea of her."

"Well, I'm just trying to get the details straight," Jake said with a sigh. "I don't suppose I need to ask how it is she found out who you really are?"

"I could say that I only, uh, 'revealed myself' fully to her in order to gain her trust," Chance said. "But that'd only be half-true at best."

Jake smiled, ever so subtly.

"I can't blame you," Jake said. "If I were in your position, I don't know what I'd do."

"This has been a lonely life, buddy," Chance said. "Not that you aren't great company. But I don't think either of us thought we'd wind up as indentured servants paying off a wrongful debt in this dump."

Jake nodded, listening.

"When I was with Turmoil, I felt free," Chance admitted. "And, like I belonged to something that _wanted_ me."

"As opposed to the begrudging acceptance the city expresses towards a SWAT Kat?" Jake asked. "Or the permanent banishment from our desired lives because of Feral?"

"Yeah," Chance said, worried he might have offended him.

"I understand," Jake said, and from his tone, Chance could tell he was being sincere.

"You're handling this whole mess a lot better than I am," Chance said as he stood up. "What's your secret?"

"Well, I've been conscious longer than you have today," Jake said, his tone less serious. "So, I've already had a few hours to vent my frustrations. It's let me to come to a realization."

"And that is?" Chance asked.

"Turmoil wants you, and I suppose by extension me, to suffer," Jake explained. "That's why she didn't kill us."

Chance remembered her sharp words before she had disappeared as dramatically as she had arrived.

_Don't look so sad now. There will be plenty of time for that in the coming months._

"So, I decided that I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction," Jake said, sounding more upbeat.

"Is that the only thing keeping you from punching me in the face?" Chance asked.

"Pretty much," Jake said.

"Great," Chance said dryly.

"Let me just ask you one more thing," Jake said. "What was it that made you betray her? And don't just tell me it was because it was the right thing to do."

Chance gave his response some contemplation before he spoke again.

"I've lived my life by doing things the hard way, Jake," Chance said. "Running off with Turmoil then would've been the easy way out."

"Well, that's good to hear," Jake said as he turned his attention back to the mess before them. "Because there isn't going to be an easy solution to all of this."

"No, there isn't," Chance said, as his eyes drifted to one of the nearby crushed cars.

On its side, hardly noticeably, was the distorted logo of the Enforcers. The vehicle had been a squad car, commonly known as a cruiser. Likely retired after it encountered one of the extraordinary threats Megakat City was known for.

The yellow and black coloring was faded, but it's triangular "M" was still apparent. It was a symbol he had once worn with pride, that represented his childhood goal to be one of the good guys. But now, it only inspired bitter memories.

_Well, maybe not all bitter._

He remembered seeing the emblem on the short sleeve of the white T-shirt that Lieutenant Felina Feral had been wearing as she stabbed a pale Shriekman square in the chest, back in that dark, cramped corridor filled with monsters.

He remembered the words he'd said just prior to their escape.

_Sometimes, you have to know when to rely on others._

"I think we could use some help, buddy," Chance said.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1 – FELINA FERAL**

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

Felina Feral's eyes shot open, the raps on the door startling her awake. She sat upright, the nearly empty 750 milliliter bottle that had been resting on her chest rolling down into her lap and then onto the floor. It clunked loudly on the hardwood, stopped by the leg of a cluttered coffee table. The remaining brown liquid inside pooled within, enough Bourbon left for maybe half-a-shot.

_I fell asleep on the couch…and in my clothes…again._

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

Felina got up, the tight, cotton-blend trousers she wore clinging to her legs. They were dark blue, almost black, with the end of the legs tucking into the black, nearly-knee-high boots she was still wearing.

_Well, almost tucked in._

One of them had become untucked and was bunched up in a disheveled fashion.

_At least I remembered to take off my duty-belt this time._

The belt, complete with holster, handcuffs, a radio and other assorted police gear was resting on an empty pizza box atop the other assorted junk her coffee table had collected. One item in particular she retrieved as she stood up. A black, polymer pistol.

It was a newer Glock 17. She had been issued it after returning to active-duty. She had lost the previous one during the incident at SITE B.

_Just another item on the laundry list of charges they brought against me._

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

Felina was officially irritated now as she quickly closed the distance to her apartment's front door, snapping open the deadbolt to the unlocked position.

"I hope for your sake the building's on fire!" she shouted as she swung the door open, keeping the gun in her right hand lowered, but visible.

On the other side was Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs. Her hand was raised just in front of where the door had been, about to knock.

"Felina," Callie said, eyes wide behind her glasses as she lowered her hand. "Sorry, I tried calling but your phone wasn't…"

Callie stopped mid-sentence as she sniffed the air.

"Is that…whiskey?" Callie asked

Felina frowned, and then looked down at herself. The light blue blouse of her uniform, of which several buttons were undone causing her badge to hang awkwardly around her bust-line, was also covered in a large stain.

"Ugh, it better be," Felina said as she turned away, leaving the door open.

Callie cautiously followed, stepping foot inside Felina's modest living quarters, closing the door behind herself.

Felina walked toward the single bedroom of her apartment, returning the gun to the coffee table as she passed by it, unbuttoning the blouse and sliding her arms out of it, and then removed the badge. She tossed the garment over her shoulder, nearly hitting Callie with it as she rummaged around the floor, picking through unfolded laundry that looked like it had never seen the inside of a closet.

"As always, you're the pinnacle of modesty," Callie said.

_And you're no doubt being modest and averting your eyes._

"I pick my battles," Felina said as she found another blouse, and took a moment to sniff it for any detectable odors.

"You know, if you're too busy to take care of things, I can recommend a dry cleaning service…" Callie began.

"Why are you here?" Felina interrupted bluntly as she put on the shirt, buttoning it up as she spoke. "We're not supposed to have lunch 'til tomorrow."

The shirt was almost as tight and uncomfortable as the pants she was tucking it into.

"Well," Callie said, seemingly unperturbed by Felina's abruptness. "I just wanted to stop by and drop something off in-person."

Felina turned around to see Callie holding a pink box with a white bow on top of it.

"That's really touching," Felina said dryly, her expression muted as she reached forward and took the gift.

"I assume you already started celebrating last night?" Callie asked, referring to the bottle on the floor she nearly tripped over.

Celebration wasn't a word that Felina would apply to what she had been doing, and in truth, she had forgotten what today was.

"I had to fill in for someone's shift last night," Felina said as she opened the box, dodging the question. Inside was a single cupcake with a lone unlit candle sticking out of the top. It was one of those ornate, and more than likely overpriced, confections that several of the downtown specialty bakeries made. The sweetness of chocolate and frosting replaced the scents that had been filling her nostrils.

"Happy birthday," Callie said as she took out a box of matches from her handbag. She lit one, and used it to ignite the candle to the cupcake that was still being held by Felina.

"You're serious?" Felina asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I won't sing, if that's what you're worried about," Callie said as she put out the match. "Well, make your wish and blow the darn thing out."

Felina's stomach rumbled, and she realized that maybe this was just the thing she needed at the moment. Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward and blew out the candle. Before the smoke had a chance to fully dissipate, Felina jammed the cupcake into her mouth, causing half of it to disappear.

"So, the big three-oh, huh?" Callie said as she turned away, looking about the sparsely decorated living room, likely trying to withhold any disgust she might have felt.

_It's my birthday. I'll eat this thing the way I want to._

"Yeah," Felina said, in-between chewing and swallowing, quickly realizing that she was going to need something to wash it down with. "You thirsty?"

Felina walked over to the cramped and poorly lit kitchen that made up the farthest corner of the apartment. She opened the refrigerator door, only to find the interior empty.

"No thanks," Callie said as she looked at several stacked cardboard boxes that occupied the area next to the couch. "Are you planning on moving?"

Felina retrieved a glass that seemed mostly clean from the sink and poured water from the tap into it. She gulped it down.

"Not exactly," Felina said. "Just looking over some old stuff."

"Feeling nostalgic?" Callie asked as she picked up a framed photo.

It was Felina's OCS graduation photo. She was in the top row, third from the left.

_Never thought I'd get out of there._

"Just trying to remind myself why I'm here, I guess," Felina said as she walked back into the living room.

Callie sighed and put the framed photo back in the box.

"I'm doing what I can, Felina," Callie said. "But, with this being an election year, I have to pick my battles, too."

Seven months earlier, Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs had approached Felina asking for help. The SWAT Kats were missing, and apparently in Callie's mind, the then Lieutenant was the only one who could help. The incident had involved Felina losing an Enforcer Sabre during a deviation from a flight plan while carrying an unauthorized passenger. And not just any passenger, but the Deputy Mayor of the city, technically meaning she had endangered her life.

_At least that's how it was viewed during my court martial._

Upon her return she had been NJP'd, and did 15 days in the stockade. Afterward, she was temporarily assigned to artillery duty, manning Enforcer HQ's defensive canons. It was unpleasant, to put it mildly, but what happened afterward was significantly more degrading.

The efforts of Callie Briggs to bring charges against the Puma Dyne corporation, which had indirectly been involved in the affair, had gone nowhere, due to a combination of lack of evidence and the involvement of Dr. Viper.

"We can't be held responsible for what a well-known felon and madman does at an alleged facility," one of their representatives had said.

Felina soon found out the hard way, for political reasons she hardly cared to understand, that her involvement with Callie would pose a problem for the Enforcers.

After the Deputy Mayor's failed attempt to bring charges against Puma Dyne, which was met with much public apathy, Felina had been brought before a summary court martial, administered by Lt. Commander Steele himself. Her immediate superiors were also present. The CAG, Felina's commanding officer, Captain Gorman, and Commander Feral himself attended the proceedings. Her uncle had remained silent for the duration.

In hindsight, Felina supposed she should have expected something like that to occur, but at the time it had been surprising.

Due to what she had been told was an "ongoing behavior of insubordination" and conduct not becoming of an officer, Felina's commission was revoked, and she was stripped of her First Lieutenant rank.

They could have discharged her right then and there, but Captain Gorman, who she had ongoing difficulties with, had made testimony that allowed her to finish out her current service tenure.

Felina was confident Gorman did this not out of sympathy, but to humiliate her, as she was reassigned to the policing unit. Specifically, the traffic division.

_They cut my wings._

She could have quit, but doing so would have been a premature end to her commitment. It would have resulted in a less than honorable discharge at best, forever scarring her record, making employment elsewhere a difficult prospect. Any future job involving her expertise as a pilot would have been forever denied.

So, she had bit her tongue, thanked the tribunal for its leniency through clenched teeth and gone on to carry out her new duties.

_Writing speeding tickets is what I do now._

Unsurprisingly, her shifts were the most undesirable, and "coincidentally" all the cars were unavailable whenever she needed them, forcing her to use a decades-old Kawasaki KZ1000P Police motorcycle that had seen better days. As it was the middle of winter, she frequently found herself exposed to the cold winds the city was reputed for.

It wasn't what Felina had spent years in training to do, a fact that crossed her mind on an almost minutely basis.

The empty bottle of Jim Beam Callie had nearly tripped over was not the first of the past few days, nor would it be the last.

"Yeah, I know you're doing your best," Felina said, her voice mostly empty.

In truth she didn't really care if the Deputy Mayor helped her or not. In Felina's mind, the damage was already done.

"Look, Felina, I know to you these are just words from a politician, but the risks you took to help me out have earned you a friend for life," Callie said. "I don't forget my friends, and once all these problems I have with the budget and Manx's re-election are taken care of, I'll be better able to sort this mess out."

Callie reached forward and placed a hand on Felina's shoulder.

"And I know this might sound a little presumptuous, but Manx isn't going to be the Mayor forever," Callie said knowingly. "Just stick with it, and try not to drink yourself under the table, okay?"

"I'll see what I can do," Felina said, her expression blank, not meeting Callie's eyes.

Callie pulled her hand back, and in a not so subtle attempt to change the subject she pointed at another item that rested beside the cardboard boxes.

"Is that real?" Callie asked as she walked over to it.

The item in question was a sheathed Mameluke sword.

"It is," Felina said.

Callie picked it up, looking it over, paying attention to the exposed ivory cross-hilt and the shiny gold highlights at the top and bottom of the scabbard.

"At Anderson's funeral several in the honor guard had these," Callie said.

"Commissioned officers are issued a sword for ceremonial purposes," Felina said as she walked over to Callie and reached for the hilt with her right hand.

In a brisk motion Felina drew the sword, pulling it free from the scabbard still in Callie's grasp, and held it sticking straight up at her side, standing at formal attention. The sword's full detail could be seen in the light of the apartment. Its slightly curved silver blade shown brightly, Felina able to see hers and Callie's reflection in it.

"Yeah, that's how they looked," Callie said. "Though, it seems a bit archaic. But, I guess that's the point, isn't it?"

"Ceremony and tradition are important," Felina said half-heartedly as she took the scabbard from Callie and re-sheathed the sword. "Though I'd imagine the only use these things get are for cutting cakes at weddings."

"That's quite a bit different from their original purpose," Callie mused. "How did these swords get adopted again? Something about an Enforcer officer receiving this type of sword from a prince as a gift of thanks for military aid to some far away country hundreds of years ago?"

"Something like that," Felina said, not interested in discussing the history of the Enforcers, as she rested the sheathed sword against the stack of boxes.

"Well, I'm glad they let you keep it," Callie said.

"Technically, they didn't," Felina said as she reached down to pick up the leather duty belt from the coffee table. "But, I'm not giving it back."

_In a way, that sword is the only thing I have left to show for all those years of work. They took everything else._

"Well, your secret's safe with me," Callie said. "And, speaking of secrets…"

By the change of tone in Callie's voice, Felina knew what she was going to say next.

"Yeah, about that…" Felina began, scratching the back of her head with her free hand distractedly.

During the course of their adventure the prior summer to track down the missing SWAT Kats, they had managed to figure out the secret identities of the masked vigilantes. Much to Felina's chagrin, T-Bone turned out to be Chance Furlong, the same auto-mechanic and former Enforcer who'd approached her at Shenanigans bar nine months ago. She had mixed feelings about the revelation.

On the one hand, she felt duped. Furlong had deliberately misled her about his involvement as a SWAT Kat and what he knew about the traitorous former Enforcer Captain Ritz.

_He could have saved me a lot of trouble chasing down Ritz if he'd have just told me who he was back then._

On the other hand, Felina had some level of understanding. Both Furlong and his partner Jake Clawson, who could be none other than the SWAT Kat Razor, had been in a situation like the one she was facing. Every member of the Air Division knew about the incident where Furlong and Clawson had disobeyed orders and wound up wrecking the incomplete Enforcer HQ building a decade ago. Felina recalled they were used as examples in cautionary tales or the butt of jokes when she was still a recruit at OCS.

Felina had always suspected there was more to that story than her peers told her, particularly as her uncle was involved.

"Have you talked to either of them since?" Callie asked.

"No," Felina said. "I haven't."

"I stopped by for an oil change a few months ago," Callie said. "It was so strange, knowing who they were, and them just continuing this act they put on for everyone."

"You haven't told them you figured out who they really are yet?" Felina asked.

"I don't know that I should," Callie said. "Things are already complicated enough. I'm not sure what would happen if I did."

Felina shrugged.

"Well, my shift is gonna start soon," Felina said as she buckled her duty belt around her waist.

"I should be going, too," Callie said. "The new assistant can only do so much in my absence."

"I thought the Mayor's Office was too bankrupt to hire new staff," Felina said.

"It is," Callie said. "But, what we can't offer in cash we can offer in college credits for an internship."

"Sounds like slave labor," Felina replied.

"Sometimes an experience is more valuable than money," Callie said. "At least, that's what I hope she'll keep on thinking. This budget crisis has gotten out of hand, and with the protesters outside City Hall I can barely make my way into the building. It's making for some rather long hours."

"And yet you make the time to see a washed-up Enforcer on her birthday," Felina said, sounding more sorry for herself than she intended to.

"Hang in there," Callie said with a smile. "I promise things will get better."

"Well, they certainly can't get any worse," Felina said as she picked up the Glock 17 from the coffee table and slid it into her holster.


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

Felina walked down the stairs of the elevated L-train station amid other exiting commuters, now wearing a black, police-style leather jacket, her hands in the pockets and her head kept low. The January wind blew mildly, with just a hint of frost. It had not snowed yet this week, but all signs pointed to its inevitability.

As a member of the traffic division, Felina no longer took the exit at Central which was near the multi-story Enforcer Headquarters. Instead, she now remained on the train longer until it reached Avenue S, closer to the outskirts of the city where the large and bustling freeways connected to suburbs like Felis Heights and Tigerlands. It was there that Enforcer Precinct 58 was located, and where Felina was now walking up to.

The precinct building was located on a one-way street off the westbound lane of Avenue S. It was just after 3 p.m., plenty of time before rush-hour, so the amount of cars on the typically busy street were few. Felina jaywalked with ease and arrived at the precinct's concrete steps that led up to a revolving door.

Unlike Enforcer Headquarters, which was a relatively new and ultramodern building by the city's standards, Precinct 58 was a time capsule. The musty interior may as well have been a set in a 1920s gangster movie, complete with worn woodworked facades, checkered black and white hex-tile floors and dim, yellow lights. Citizens sat at benches, waiting for their turn to approach the lone police officer who sat behind a reception desk, who was currently engaged in a discussion with someone. A smudged and cracked pane of thick glass kept the two separated. The discussion was becoming more heated.

"My truck was stolen, and you're not going to do anything about it?" said this someone, a man in his early 40s by the looks of it, to the officer. He was wearing a jacket that had a simple black logo in a blocky typeface on the back. The letter's MM accompanied by text underneath that spelled out Mel's Movers.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down," the police officer, Felina recognized as Corporal John Meyers, was distractedly saying while holding a phone's handset to his ear. Several lines were ringing.

Felina walked forward to stand next to the upset man and knocked her fist on the glass loudly.

"Hey Meyers," Felina said. "Hope you're not too busy to buzz me in."

Meyers didn't say anything as he pressed an unseen button. A nearby door, featuring a red sign with white lettering stating POLICE ONLY, made a buzzing sound followed by a click.

"Hey, while you're back there, maybe you can tell your co-workers to do their jobs, huh?" the upset man said, getting a side-eyed look from Meyers.

"It shall be handled post-haste," Felina said dryly as she walked through the door, thankful to leave the lobby. It closed loudly behind her, the lock audibly clicking back into place.

Felina walked down the hallway, the floorboards creaking with each step she took, making her wonder how much longer it'd be until the floor collapsed.

_Hopefully when it does it'll take the rest of this place with it._

There were other Enforcer police officers meandering through the hallway, several of which made not-so-subtle movements to avoid her.

Felina had discovered upon her transfer that there were generally two ways that people in Precinct 58 had received her. She knew that many considered her an elitist, as Felina's background was well-known to many in the Enforcers. She had what was colloquially known as a "grand slam," being a combat pilot and SWAT-qualified commando, and many in the Precinct were intimidated by her.

The other way she had been received was as a disgraced outsider. It was no secret that there were divisions between the general enlisted and the Officers with a capital "O." A first lieutenant, like Felina had been, would likely never have stepped foot in a place like this.

Sergeant Joseph Daniels, the watch commander and essentially Felina's new boss, fell into the latter camp. Joe, as he was routinely referred as, did little to hide his delight at being in charge of a former first lieutenant. Especially a Feral.

Felina reached the end of the hallway where the entrance to the briefing room awaited. It was a sparsely decorated classroom, complete with a large green chalkboard at the back of the room that was in need of a rinse. A makeshift podium that sat atop a folding table was at the head of the room. Several Enforcer police officers sat in orange, plastic chairs with metal feet that screeched on the floor when moved.

_As professional as it gets…_

The other police were engaged in various smalltalk with each other, filling the room with the mild noise of conversation. Felina took a seat in the back corner of the room, crossing her arms and leaning back, putting one leg over the other, eager for the daily briefing and roll call to get started and over with.

"Is that how you'd sit in one of your fancy airplane meetings?" Joe asked, his question directed at Felina as he entered.

Felina frowned, hearing the voice she had come to despise. It was a light voice, almost raspy, with a slight North-Eastern accent, that was occasionally interrupted by the sounds of heavy breathing. It was no surprise to Felina, as Joe, in his 5'8" frame, had to weigh close to 350 pounds.

The uniform he wore clung tightly around his arms and midsection. His gut threatened to burst the buttons of his shirt and spill over his 50-plus inch waist trousers. Until Felina had seen him, she didn't know that duty belts were made in that size. She honestly wondered if one of the sausages he called fingers could actually fit through the trigger guard of his sidearm.

His lack of facial hair and chubby red cheeks made him look baby-faced, despite his short-wavy haircut showing signs of going bald.

"Why don't you try showing a little more enthusiasm," Joe said as he waddled past, taking his place at the head of the room.

Felina rolled her eyes, simply switching which leg she had crossed over the other. She could hear others snickering as the room quieted down, everyone's attention forward.

"Alright, who's here today?" Joe asked as he rustled a short stack of papers on the podium, and began to take roll. In sequence everyone including Felina called out "here" as their names were read off. The third watch were all present.

"Okay, normal patrols for today," Joe said. "Second watch had nothing out of the ordinary to report. There's still a lot of protesters around downtown near City Hall. Nothing violent, but if that changes some of you might get called in to provide assistance."

Due to the city's inability to pass a budget, several thousand city workers ranging from sanitation to education had organized protests with threats to strike. It was a matter that Callie had gone into great depth to explain to Felina the last time they'd had lunch together.

Felina had tried to listen, but public policy was a topic she had little interest in, so the details mostly escaped her. She did, however, know that it was an issue that had Callie worried, as it could hurt the Manx administration's chances for re-election. Something about the poor economy, high taxes and a City Council that may or may not be corrupt.

The protests had started out small a month prior, but everyday it seemed like more and more people were gathering, flooding portions of downtown. Felina had been assigned to help keep the peace last Wednesday. Due to last-minute emergency funding provisions, the Enforcers were mostly unaffected by the budget's failure to pass, causing resentment to build up for many.

_I'd be upset too if I were in their shoes._

"Also, there have been a few reports of vehicle thefts in our area," Joe continued. "So if you see anything out of the ordinary make sure to call in a plate check."

With that brief set of instructions completed, Joe concluded the briefing, and the police officers of the room partnered off and went their respective ways.

Felina was the last to stand, and met Joe's eyes.

"Is there something on your mind, _Officer_ Feral?" he asked, drawing out the title.

"Yeah," Felina said. "Is there anyway I can get a car?"

"Well, let me take a look," Joe said, pretending to look over a piece of paper he was holding. "Nope, looks like they've all been assigned."

"What a surprise," Felina said as she turned away and left the room.

* * *

The motor pool occupied the rear end of the building with a driveway leading to an alleyway that connected to Avenue S. It was a concrete garage, with two levels of Enforcer vehicles crammed within. Several of the officers from the briefing were walking in pairs to their cars, carrying black Remington 870 shotguns with them. Enforcer regulations didn't allow for storage of weapons in unattended vehicles, so they would have to be carried in and out during shift changes.

Felina was one of the few not assigned a partner, which was another reason it made getting a squad car all the more difficult. She approached the motor pool's attendant, another corporal whose name she didn't know. He sat in an office with a sliding window on a counter that faced the garage. Behind him was a wall with a hundred hooks that various keys hung from.

"Hey, is there any chance I can get a car?" Felina asked, walking up to the window.

"Name?" the corporal asked, not looking up from a crossword puzzle.

"Feral," Felina said with a sigh.

"Let me check…" he said distractedly.

He reached to his left without looking and grabbed a specific key and slid it across the countertop. "Nope."

"But there's two of them right over there," Felina said, pointing to a corner of the garage where a set of pristine looking squad cars were parked side-by-side.

"Those ones have been set aside for maintenance," the corporal said. "Flat tires or something."

"Yeah, I can see that," Felina said as she grabbed the key she was given. It was attached to a fob with the Enforcer logo on it. On the back was a stamped number, KXY1017. The license plate number of the same motorcycle she had been riding going on five months now.

Felina walked away without another word, making her way to what had become a familiar section of the garage where a dozen parked motorcycles were lined, propped up by kickstands. Each was painted a dull-white, the coloring worn by years of use. A scuffed windshield was elevated above the handlebars. Red and blue lights were on either side of the main headlight. A helmet rested on each seat.

Zipping up her jacket, Felina took out two leather gloves from the pockets and put them on. She retrieved the helmet, tucked her neck-length hair back, and adjusted the chinstrap as she put it on. With that done, she saddled the bike, and inserted the key into the ignition.

The four-cylinder engine roared to life, causing the bike to rumble with an understated power between her legs. Despite what she knew to be overcast skies outside, she put on a pair of aviator sunglasses, the large silver lenses looking like mirrors.

Felina pulled the spiraled cord of her StarCom radio over the back of her shoulder and attached it to a velcro strip just above her right breast pocket. She pressed the transmit button and leaned her mouth toward it.

"Dispatch, this is Three-Five-Niner, starting patrol, over," Felina said.

The radio crackled and the slightly distorted voice of a female dispatcher came back.

"Copy that, Three-Five-Niner," the dispatcher said.

Felina rotated the throttle on the right handlebar, revving the engine. She leaned the bike up and shoved the kickstand backward with her foot, clicking the clutch into gear, and sped forward. Felina exited the motor pool, once again entering the twilit streets of Megakat City.

* * *

The gridlocked, slow chaos of the rush-hour traffic along the 101 Freeway made Felina wonder why anyone would choose to drive to work with so many public transportation options available. Not owning a car herself, she supposed that judgement was a little biased.

_To each their own, I guess._

Felina was sitting idle on the motorcycle just before the Essex offramp on the shoulder. The five lanes of southbound traffic crawled forward every few seconds, with brake-lights shining brightly. She had left the radar gun untouched in the square saddlebag hanging behind her seat. There wouldn't be opportunities for anyone to speed in the current traffic.

Not really caring if she looked bored, Felina propped up her chin with her hand, and rested her elbow on the handlebars. She sighed, her breath visible in the chill air.

The shadows were growing longer, the sun hanging low on the horizon, breaking through the overcast, making her glad she'd remembered her sunglasses. With it being fifteen after five, there was only about another hour of daylight left.

Every so often, her radio came to life, the brief exchanges between other officers and dispatch shared across the StarCom system. Nothing of interest caught her attention as her thoughts drifted.

Far above, Felina heard the sound of jet engines, and she glanced up to see a pair of Sabres flying side-by-side. They streaked across the sky, their silhouettes showing dramatically with the low sun behind them. Just as soon they disappeared from view.

At this hour, it was likely Jones and Stevenson on intercept patrol. Felina sighed, feeling a longing in her gut to be back in the air.

_What am I doing here…_

A horn honked loudly, and Felina startled to attention, her chin nearly falling off her hand. Sitting up straight, she scanned the lanes, her eyes hidden by the silver lenses.

Someone in a small, two-door economy car had abruptly pulled to the outside lane without signaling, cutting off another motorist.

_Well, first catch of the day, I guess._

Felina flipped a switch, and the bike's red and blue lights flashed. She let several bursts of the siren blare as she revved the throttle and zoomed forward, pulling behind the offending vehicle. She could see the exaggerated body language from the driver through their rear window. It was surprising how similar everyone acted when they knew they had been caught.

The car slowly pulled to the shoulder and came to a stop, with Felina stopping the motorcycle several feet behind it. She clicked the clutch to neutral and put out the kickstand, leaning to the left and letting the bike hold its own weight. Reaching across her chest she hit the transmit button on her radio mic.

"Three-Five-Niner at Essex off-ramp, moving violation. Need plate check…" she paused, looking at the license plate of the car. "Delta-bravo-x-ray-two-two-seven. Copy."

"Ten-four, Three-Five-Niner," the crackled transmission of the dispatcher's voice came back after a moment.

Felina dismounted the motorcycle, its engine still running, and withdrew a medium-sized metal clipboard from the left saddlebag. It was thick with bound triplicate forms, a single pen chained in the corner. Megakat City municipal traffic infraction citations.

Felina was no stranger to paperwork. She had filled out her fair share of flight plans, mission data, and aircraft status checklists. But there was something about the act of actually writing a ticket that made her skin crawl.

_Please don't come back with any hits on the plate check so I can let you go with a warning…_

She approached the car, each booted step firmly planted in the shoulder's gravely pavement, the ticket board tucked under her left arm. Out of habit, her right hand was kept free, though she did not anticipate any trouble. So far she had not had to draw her sidearm even once during her time in the traffic division.

The car was older, and numerous patches of paint were chipped off in places. Aside from a backpack and several textbooks in the backseat, it was surprisingly uncluttered.

The driver's side window was already rolled down. The lone occupant, a younger guy in his early twenties, had both of his hands in clear view at ten and two on the steering wheel. What appeared to be a driver's license, vehicle registration and proof of insurance were sitting in clear view on the dashboard. He was also wearing his seatbelt.

_I like you already._

"I'm sorry, officer," the guy said with an upbeat nervousness. It was a tone she had grown used to hearing. "It's just I'm running late for a class."

"Hand me that, please," Felina said, relaxing her stance as she held out her right hand, already knowing there'd be no trouble.

The driver slid the items off the dashboard and held them out the window to Felina, who took them and looked them over. Ryan McConnell, resident of apartment D on East 54th street, an address about 20 minutes away from the current location.

"Stay here," Felina said, almost dismissively, as she walked back toward the motorcycle.

At first glance Ryan's documents appeared to be in order. Nothing was expired.

"Three-Five-Niner, vehicle checks out," her radio crackled.

"Copy that," Felina said into the mic, and started the process of entering Ryan's driver's license number into a small digital readout that occupied a space between the handlebars. It was standard procedure to run the license number against a database to make sure there weren't any outstanding warrants. Felina tapped her foot, waiting for the slow cellular connection to transmit and receive. After a moment, it came back clear.

_54th Street is pretty rough. And, living in an apartment with a letter instead of a number. That's almost always bad times._

She walked back to the car. Ryan looked up at her, the nervousness replaced with a look of cautious optimism. Felina handed the items back to him.

"Where do you go to school, Ryan?" Felina asked.

"Megakat Junior College, Ma'am," Ryan said as he fumbled the items back into his glovebox.

Felina leaned forward, hands on her hips.

"Try leaving fifteen minutes earlier next time, okay?" she said.

"Y-yes, I'll do that," Ryan said.

Felina smiled, knowing the warning had been conveyed, and she took a step back and waved her hand to direct him away.

"You're free to go," she said.

Ryan started the car, and this time more cautiously, merged back into traffic.

"Dispatch this is Three-Five-Niner," Felina said, talking into the mic as she walked back to the idled motorcycle, tossing the ticket board back into the saddle bag. "Situation is ten twenty-four, over."

"Copy that, Three-Five-Niner," the radio squawked back.

The constant communication between dispatch and herself had taken some getting used to. For the purposes of everyone's safety, Enforcer police officers were kept in constant radio contact, regularly reporting their activity and location. The 10-24 code was given when an officer completed whatever it was they were doing.

It was a system that didn't offer nearly as much freedom as Felina had been used to in her previous assignment.

As she prepared to mount the motorcycle, she heard the sound of screeching tires, followed by the crash of metal-on-metal. But, it wasn't coming from the gridlocked lanes. She glanced past the railing that ran along the shoulder. From her position, the elevation of the freeway gave her the perfect view of the surface streets below. At an intersection, there was a minivan spun out, the driver's-side crumpled like aluminum foil. Black smoke was rising from the wreck. A bright orange fire glinted.

"Dispatch, Three-Five-Niner requesting fire support near Essex, Exit 25," Felina called into her radio as she hastily got back on the motorcycle.

* * *

The needle of the speedometer between the handlebars teetered around the 70mph mark as Felina raced down Essex Street, her lights flashing and siren blaring. Ahead she could see the smoke rising and she gritted her teeth. This particular area was filled with boarded up storefronts and empty lots. The sidewalks were cracked and overrun with dead plants, the roots of leafless trees occasionally displacing sections. She narrowly avoided several potholes that threatened to send her into a crash.

Felina rounded a corner, decelerated, and skidded the bike to a stop in the middle of the intersection. Before her, the front of the minivan was engulfed in flames, pieces of glass and debris littering the immediate area. There had been a collision, and with the absence of the second car, that made it a hit-and-run.

"Dispatch, where's my firetruck?" Felina demanded, nearly shouting into her radio's mic as she put out the kickstand and dismounted the bike. She swung open the lid of one of the saddle bags and dug around until she found the small red canister within. A one-time-use fire extinguisher.

"Three-Five-Niner, fire support is on the way," the radio crackled.

Felina ran up to the crashed vehicle, having to pause as she felt the heat from the fire all the way through her jacket. The smell of gasoline was heavy in the air.

"Not soon enough," she said to herself as she brought the extinguisher up and pressed down on the actuator, getting as close to the fire as she could.

The extinguisher shot out a white foam, and she did her best to aim it at the source of the fire. But, it did little, and within seconds it was empty. Felina swore and threw the canister aside, wondering what else she could do when out of the corner of her eye she saw an unmoving figure on the street, some distance away from the burning vehicle.

"My daughter," came a barely audible sound.

Felina didn't know if the woman had managed to escape the wreck or if she had been thrown from the vehicle. Felina didn't get the chance to figure that out, as she heard a sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Screaming.

_There's a kid in there…_

Without another second's hesitation she ran forward, ignoring the heat she felt as she made it to the large sliding door of the minivan. She grabbed it with both hands and pulled with all her strength, but it wouldn't budge. The screaming grew louder, and Felina could just barely make out the word "help" being shouted.

"Close your eyes!" Felina shouted and undid the strap under her chin, taking off her helmet. She held it with both hands and swung it sideways. The large window of the sliding door, already damaged by the crash, shattered into pieces, the helmet disappearing within as smoke billowed out in its wake.

"Help me!" a child's voice cried in-between coughs. It was a girl, no more than six or seven years old. She was in the rearmost seat, restrained by her seatbelt.

"I got you!" Felina said as she dove through the hole, feeling shards of glass pierce through her jacket and into her arms as she did so. Her brow furled in pain, but she tried to ignore it as she fumbled around in the low visibility. Her hands met the seatbelt's buckle, and she jammed her thumb into the button.

Nothing happened.

She pressed it again, and again. It refused to unlatch, keeping the girl stuck in place.

The girl screamed anew. Felina could feel the flames of the fire intensify, and she realized she too was coughing now.

Awkwardly she reached down and into her right boot, and gripped her fingers around a familiar ridged handle. In a quick motion she drew the knife, her M4 Bayonet, and slashed it deeply across the top of the seat. The upholstery split apart and seeped its stuffing like the guts of a slashed opponent, the seatbelt getting severed along the way.

The child was free. Felina let go of the blade and grabbed her close, covering the back of the child's head with her hand as she thrust her shoulder forward. In an instant she tumbled through the broken window and spilled over onto the street, landing hard on her back, her unprotected head hitting the pavement, causing her sunglasses to break. The child was on top of her, crying. This view afforded her a crucial observance: the gas tank was leaking. The fuel was pooling underneath the minivan.

Felina didn't remain there long, and sat up, desperately scooting backward with the use of one arm, the other holding the kid close. She could see the pool begin to ignite, and she rolled over, putting her body over the child.

The minivan exploded.


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Felina found herself standing in the middle of a large chamber. It was decorated with elegant tapestries, several multi-story tall stone columns lined the perimeter, and candle-lit chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. Between each column was a free standing torchlight. Eery flames cast several shadows of herself on the polished marble floor.

In front of her, a violet carpet led up a half-dozen steps where a large and highly ornate chair rested. Its yellow finish shown brightly in the dim light, easily identifiable as gold, with multi-colored jewels glinting. It was a throne. And it was not unoccupied.

A lone individual was sitting on the throne, wearing clothes that seemed foreign and anachronistic. A cloth turban rested on his head. His eyes were closed, as if in concentration.

Despite the strange setting, Felina felt she recognized the place.

_So familiar…but why?_

And then she remembered. One day, seemingly an eternity ago, as a recruit sitting in class, there was a lecturer whose name she had long forgotten. The class was Enforcer History and Ceremony, and the material being discussed was the _Battle of Nebelung_.

"Megakat City was still a colonial settlement in its infancy," the instructor explained as he paced back and forth in front of the seated group of recruits. "As a port city, being able to successfully ship and receive goods from across the ocean was of paramount importance."

An old-world map hung on the blackboard behind the instructor, showing dotted lines illustrating the shipping routes.

"The Chartreux Pirates, notorious outlaws who roamed the high seas, looted ships all along the Katlantic Ocean," the instructor continued. "They were very good at what they did, so much so, they were able to coerce cities into paying tribute. Those who paid the exorbitant fee would have their ships left alone."

_Just like a storefront paying the mob protection money._

"Megakat Colony's governor, Jefferson Manx, like many others, was given an ultimatum by the pirates," the instructor said. "'Pay us tribute or your ships will be plundered,' they said."

"Now, Manx weighed his options, and decided to set an example, thinking that a quick decisive military action would be less costly than the tribute Megakat City would have to pay," the instructor continued. "So, Manx consigned a fighting force, recruiting members out of the now legendary Zun Tavern. This force would be called the Enforcers."

Felina had listened to this part of the story with interest.

"Now, rather than engage the pirates on the high seas, the Enforcers sailed all the way across the ocean and arrived at the shores of Nebelung. This was the pirate's stronghold, where they had defeated the local government some years prior," the instructor said. "In a cunning move, the Enforcers snuck into the country, allied with the displaced Prince Kamet of the Ottokat Empire, traveled for weeks on foot across the harsh desert, and with the help of a frontal assault from Enforcer naval forces, took Nebelung."

"The battle lasted three days, and the Chartreux Pirates were defeated," the instructor said. "Now the known world would no longer have to fear the pirates or pay into their extortion racket. Megakat City, by virtue of its Enforcers, had shown the world that though they were still a young establishment, that they could stand up for themselves."

The instructor paused as he reached down to grasp the curved-hilt that protruded out of the scabbard attached to his duty belt. In a quick and well-practiced motion he drew the sword and held it out in front of him. The curved blade had a mirror-finish, Felina able to see hers and the other recruits reflection in it.

"As thanks for their help and in recognition of their bravery, the Ottokat prince presented Enforcer Battalion Commander John Sulfur with a scimitar-like sabre: a Mameluke sword," the instructor said, rotating the blade as he spoke. "To this day, it remains a symbol of courage and duty."

The memory faded as realization sank in. Felina was standing in the Great Hall of Nebelung.

_And that means the person on the throne has to be none other than Prince Kamet._

"What am I doing here?" Felina asked, her voice sounding hollow.

Kamet made no response. His eyes remained closed.

Felina frowned, and began to approach the throne, each footstep echoing in the Great Hall. She reached the first step, noting how perfectly the violet carpet fit into the crevices. Looking up, she repeated herself.

"What am I doing here?" Felina asked again, this time more forcefully.

Kamet's eyes opened. Each was a glowing orb, as bright at the sun, casting rays that engulfed Felina in twin spotlights. She winced and held up a forearm.

"Breathe," Kamet said in a deep baritone from his seated position.

"What?" Felina asked, feeling the calm air beginning to turn into a maelstrom around her.

"Breathe!" Kamet shouted this time, causing the ground to shake.

Felina took a step back, losing her footing, as cracks began to appear along the marble floor. The large stone columns that lined the edges of the room began to wobble, and several of them toppled over. Chunks of debris spilled across the floor, knocking over the freestanding torches. The tapestries caught on fire.

Underneath Felina's feet, one of the cracks spread out, and the floor began to cave-in on itself. She grasped wildly at the empty air, and found no hold, as she fell into a dark abyss.

* * *

"Just breathe," a soothing, male voice said.

Felina slowly opened her eyes to find herself looking up at someone she did not know, but recognized as a member of the Fire Rescue Brigade. He was holding something over her nose and mouth. A plastic oxygen mask.

Felina nodded and inhaled, her lungs filling with the almost-pure oxygen, which made her head swim, still not sure if this was another dream.

"That was a pretty amazing thing you did," the medic said.

Felina realized that her jacket had been removed, and several bandages were wrapped around her bare arms. She was lying on a lowered stretcher, situated on the sidewalk near the wreck. She craned her head and saw her motorcycle still parked, and the blackened remains of the minivan. Members of the fire brigade were in the process of cleaning up, coiling up large fire hoses. The street was wet.

"The girl?" Felina asked.

"A broken arm, smoke inhalation, a few cuts and scratches, but she'll be fine," the medic said.

"And her mother?" Felina asked.

"In serious condition. Had to call in a medivac chopper," the medic said more somberly. "But, with a little luck she'll pull through."

One of the firefighters, carrying a hose over his shoulder, walked past Felina and paused, standing over her.

"This yours?" he asked, holding out an item.

Felina looked up to see her bayonet. It was blackened and charred.

"Yes," Felina said, and held out her hand. "It's a good luck charm."

The fireman smiled and handed it to her, and then returned to what he was doing.

"So, what's the damage?" Felina asked through the oxygen mask.

"You?" the medic asked. "A few first degree burns, some minor lacerations, and uh, well, you might need to see a barber."

Felina sat up as the medic withdrew the oxygen mask, and reached up with her free hand to feel her hair, noticing that the longer lengths had been burned.

"It was time for a new haircut anyway," she said as she bent her knee to bring her right boot closer, and slid the blade back into its holster.

Red and blue flashing lights caught Felina's attention, and she looked to see a pair of cruisers come to a stop. Several Enforcer police officers exited the vehicles and began to set up a perimeter.

"Try to take it easy for a while," the medic said, patting her on the shoulder.

"Sure thing," Felina said as she stood up, feeling the aches in her body giving protest.

The medic rolled the stretcher away, and Felina began to take note of the surroundings.

It was after dark now, the streetlights providing a blue-tinted illumination. The Enforcer officers were marking off locations and photographing the wreck.

"Three-Five-Niner, what's your situation?" the impassive voice of the dispatcher crackled.

Felina grabbed the radio mic which was dangling on its spiraled cord from her duty belt.

"Three-Five-Niner, situation is ten twenty-four," Felina said into the mic, as she found her jacket lying on the curb. "Taking my lunch, over."

"Ten-four," the dispatcher replied.

Felina docked the mic on her belt and reached down to pick up the leather jacket. Several holes from where the broken window's glass had jabbed into her remained, stains of her blood visible. She shivered, and realized how cold it was, and she carefully slid her bandaged arms into the sleeves.

One of the Enforcer police officers approached Felina, and whistled in a tone of amazement.

"I guess a little fire isn't going to stop someone like you, is it, Lieutenant?" he said.

"It's not Lieutenant, anymore," Felina said, her mood souring. "What do you want?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," he said and then thumbed through papers on a clipboard. "Just filling out the paperwork and need to get your-"

"Yeah yeah, my statement," Felina said as she snatched it from his grasp, startling him. "You call in a tow yet to get that out of the middle of the street?"

"Yeah," he said, collecting himself. "We're done documenting the scene."

"Then I'll bring this to you when I'm done," Felina said as she walked away from him, going closer to the remains of the minivan.

The officer shrugged and shook his head.

Felina flipped through the pages of the clipboard and used the attached pen to scribble in details, using as few words as possible to get her point across, walking and writing.

_Occurrence at Essex and Ralston. Arrived at scene. Female occupant outside of vehicle. Child still within. Conducted rescue. Other vehicle…_

Felina frowned, realizing she had never seen the second vehicle.

_…remains at large. Unknown make or model. No additional witnesses. _

Something crumpled under Felina's boot, and she took a step back to see what it was.

On the gravelly street, half inside a pothole, was a small plastic segment, a little smaller than a frisbee. It looked like a jigsaw puzzle piece, but more important was the lettering on it. She reached down and picked it up, looking at it closer.

Sure enough, the letters MM were printed on it. Felina recalled the agitated person from earlier in the day at Precinct 58 complaining about his stolen truck, the same MM logo on his shirt, standing for Mel's Movers. This piece of plastic was likely a part of a sign that broke off in the impact.

_Well, Mel, looks like your case has my attention._

Bright lights from an oncoming vehicle interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see a tow-truck pulling up and coming to a stop. She almost did a double-take when she saw the two individuals who exited.

_What are the odds…_

* * *

"…and then the guy runs out, screaming at us that we can't tow his brand new Mercedes, swearing that the car payment was in the mail," Chance Furlong said. "And then he hops into the car, mind you it's half-elevated still, and he just floors it."

Felina smirked as she ate a French fry covered in ketchup.

The tow-truck drivers, Chance Furlong and his friend Jake Clawson, had immediately recognized her. Apparently the accident had occurred in an area they provided tow services for. Officially, she knew Chance as the guy who had bought her a drink at Shenanigans and as a fellow prisoner who shared a cell in Dark Kat's formerly secret lair at Megakat Caverns State Park. Unofficially, she also knew he was T-Bone, the SWAT Kat.

Chance had insisted the three of them share a meal together at Yolonda's Supper Club, a nearby diner that lived up to its greasy-spoon visage. The floor was a dirtied astral plane checkered in black and white tiles. The booth seats were dark red leather cushions. Stainless metal tables featuring ridged chrome-lined edges were in-between them, with a large window overlooking the parking lot adjacent. Felina sat on one side of the table, while the two guys wearing overalls and baseball caps sat opposite.

The waitress had taken their orders and brought their plates in an abrupt and less than receptive manner, which Felina assumed was part of the place's charm. Jake had barely said a word, letting his partner carry the conversation. He seemed distracted, stirring a spoon in his soup, in-thought. The check was paid, generously by Chance, though Felina had left a few singles on the table for a tip.

_Callie was right, it's really surreal to see them put on this act._

"The tires squeal in reverse, and nothing happens for a few seconds," Chance said as he spoke with his hands, having already finished his cheeseburger. "And his front axle completely detaches. It's hanging off the tow hook while the car goes slamming down."

"I'm sure the repo company was happy about that," Felina said.

"Not one bit," Chance said with a laugh. "We've been blacklisted ever since, not that I really care. Repossessions never sat right with me, and there's not enough money in it. Not for the kind of risks you'd have to take."

"Anyone ever pull a gun on you?" Felina asked as she took a sip from a coffee mug, the warm caffeinated beverage tasting bitter.

"Let's just say we've had our fair share of close calls," Chance said, glancing at Jake.

Hearing his name brought up, Jake emerged from whatever thought was keeping him so engrossed.

"What? Oh, yeah," Jake said. "We have lots of adventures out on the roads."

"So, L-," Chance began, but caught himself. "So, uh, Felina, what brings you out to this neck of the woods?"

"It's part of my current patrol route," Felina said, setting the coffee cup down gently. "Was pulling someone over on the 101, and saw an accident."

"That minivan we picked up," Chance said. "Looks like a nasty wreck. Did the driver…"

"Survive?" Felina finished the sentence. "Medic said they were banged up pretty bad, but they'll make it."

"That's good to hear," Chance said, and then eyed her damaged jacket that showed a few bloodstains and burns, no doubt noticing the condition of her hair. "I don't suppose they have you to thank for that?"

Felina shrugged.

"Just faithfully discharging your duties?" Jake asked.

Felina quirked an eyebrow. Jake had paraphrased a line from the Enforcer Oath of Enlistment.

"I guess you could say that," Felina replied. "What are you getting at?"

Jake looked to Chance, the two exchanging some kind of wordless communication, and Chance sighed.

"Are you happy with the way you're being treated?" Chance asked.

"What would you know about the way I'm being treated?" Felina asked as she crossed her arms, averting her gaze and looking out the window.

"It's just, you know Jake and I are no strangers to being on the wrong side of an administrative decision," Chance said, lowering his voice, the festive mood he'd been displaying gone. "I, err, we, just wanted to let you know that we sympathize."

Jake nodded in agreement.

"Did Callie Briggs put you up to this?" Felina asked, not meeting their eyes.

For the first time Jake smiled and leaned back in his seat.

"Well, looks like we've been caught," Jake said.

"Figures," Felina said.

"The last time Callie dropped by for her tune-up she mentioned what happened to you," Chance said. "I think what they did to you is a real travesty."

"And you think that makes us kindred spirits?" Felina asked, turning her attention back to them.

"Well, I don't see why not…" Chance began.

"Is there something you two want to tell me?" Felina asked, putting a little bit of an edge in her voice.

_How stupid do you think I am? I know who you two really are._

"Just…" Chance started, apparently unable to find the words as he looked to Jake for help.

"What Chance is trying to say is that there's other ways to protect and serve," Jake cut in. "Ways that might require an open mind."

_Well, this is interesting._

"Oh?" she asked.

"We can't really talk about it here," Chance said. "But let's just say that something's come up recently."

"Something bad," Jake continued. "And you're just the kind of person who could help us out."

"You guys get into some kind of legal trouble?" Felina asked, deciding to play along.

"It's more like the kind of trouble you and I had last year," Chance said.

"Someone else you know get kidnapped by Dark Kat this time?" Felina asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

"It's a little more serious than that," Jake said, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"You know where we live," Chance said. "I think that when you get some time off, you should swing by, and we can better discuss just how bad."

Felina raised an eyebrow, tempted to ask just exactly what their future topic of conversation would be, when her radio crackled to life.

"Three-Five-Niner, what's you status, over?" the dispatcher said.

Felina frowned and held the mic up to her mouth.

"Three-Five-Niner at Essex and 53rd," Felina said. "What's the problem?"

"Suspicious vehicle sighted near 50th at Ralston," the dispatcher said. "Requesting a unit to respond."

"Copy that, Three-Five-Niner en-route," Felina said as she stood up from the table, looking down at the two, both looking like they were awaiting a response.

"I'll think about it," Felina said as she walked away.


	5. Chapter 4

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

Felina rode the Kawasaki farther down Essex, meandering through the evening's light traffic. It was just after 7pm, and the rush-hour traffic had dissipated. The cool evening seemed to keep most pedestrians off the sidewalks and inside businesses and homes, the greenish-blue tint of the streetlights illuminating how empty the current neighborhood seemed to be.

_Not entirely vacant. A "suspicious" vehicle is around here somewhere._

Her hair whipped behind her head, unsecured by the lack of a helmet. Felina could feel her ears getting cold. She would have to stop by Precinct 58 and pick up another helmet after completing this assignment.

The large blue street signs with text written in white sans-serif counted down at each street corner, until she arrived at her destination. 50th Street.

She slowed and leaned into her turn at the intersection. This particular street led into a business park, with several featureless office buildings on either side of the road. The black expanses of empty parking lots were in abundance.

_I guess everyone is nine-to-five around here._

A median filled with leafless trees ran along the center of the street, with areas of dead grass near the sidewalk. Felina imagined that in any other season it would all look vibrantly green and welcoming, but in the midst of winter the scenery was foreboding.

"Three-Five-Niner, arrived at scene," Felina said into her mic, holding the handlebars effortlessly with one hand as she slowed to about 15 mph.

"Copy that, Three-Five-Niner," the dispatcher replied.

If it weren't for the large numbers on the outside of the buildings, Felina would not be able to tell them apart. The notion of working in a place like this was a foreign concept to her.

As she came to the end of the business park, where 50th Street transitioned into empty lots, she saw something out of the ordinary. The last office building, address 2405, had a loading dock that was just visible from the street. At one of the bays, was a large, white moving truck. On the side of its 24-foot long covered bed was a large stylized logo with the letters MM boldly showing.

Felina frowned and turned the bike to enter the parking lot. As she got closer, she could see the passenger-side fender was damaged. A section of redundant branding was missing from what looked to be a fresh collision. The diesel engine was idling loudly, but there was no one to be seen.

Felina stopped the motorcycle and kicked out the stand, leaning it to a rest. She dismounted and pressed the transmit button on her mic, speaking into it.

"Three-Five-Niner, reporting possible 10-31, requesting assistance," Felina said, stating the code for a burglary in-progress.

"Copy that," the dispatcher chirped back. "Units unavailable at this time, standby."

Felina rolled her eyes and did little to withhold the impatience in her voice.

"Ten-four," Felina said into the mic, and then began to approach the truck.

_I don't care what they're doing in there. This guy is gonna answer for that hit and run._

Felina had been in more tight spots than she could remember. Whether it was coming face-to-face with horrible mutated monsters or being engaged in air-to-air battles. She knew herself to be a battle-hardened soldier. This situation did not concern her in the least, and she felt herself overqualified for the task that lay ahead.

Felina took light footsteps, which seemed overly cautions amid the noise of the idling diesel engine. The area was well lit thanks to the building's night running lights, casting a gold hue on the immediate surroundings. She reached down with her right hand. With her gloved thumb she unclasped the brass snap-lock of the leather band that rested over the grip of her holstered Glock 17.

She walked around the front of the truck, unable to see the occupant, and reached the driver-side door. Felina positioned her left side toward the door, and rested her right hand on the the grip of her sidearm. With her free hand, she knocked on the door.

"Turn off the engine and step out of the vehicle," Felina commanded, keeping her voice calm but authoritative. "And keep your hands where I can see them.

Felina could see movement through the window, and the rumbling engine of the truck stopped shortly thereafter. The door clicked and opened slowly, the occupant seemingly following Felina's orders. Felina took a step back, putting a safe distance between herself and whoever was about to disembark.

"Nice and slow," Felina said, and then paused, caught off guard as the driver stepped into the lot's light.

The driver was a woman. She stood as tall as Felina, wearing dark colored jackboots with olive-drab cargo pants tucked into them.

A tight white and black striped shirt that Felina recognized as a _Telnyashka_, accentuated her feminine features. It was tucked into her pants, where at her waist she wore a simple duty belt, no items attached to it.

The woman's face was pretty, but without makeup, her expression a deadpan gaze. Her light grey eyes seemed empty and cold. Atop her head was a red beret, with markings Felina guessed were in Cyrillic. Underneath was shortly cut blonde hair, reminiscent of a pageboy style. Her hands were held up at her midsection, palms facing forward.

The shirt concerned Felina.

_That Telnyashka. The Spetzkatz wore those._

Their eyes met, and in that instant, Felina realized that whoever this was had no intention of cooperating with an arrest.

"Paratrooper?" Felina asked, taking a guess at the woman's occupation, right hand still resting on the holstered Glock's grip .

"Yes," she replied, without an ounce of concern, maintaining her position. There was an accent in her voice that confirmed Felina's suspicions.

_No doubt about it. She's Spetzkatz. But, the Sokoke Union fell over a decade ago, their special forces disbanded. _

"QRF?" the woman asked, and Felina blinked.

QRF stood for Quick Reaction Force, the elite SWAT division of the Enforcers where Felina had served during her first assignment out of BCT. The competition to become a fighter pilot was fierce, and to root out those who were not dedicated, applicants would have to serve up to one year in another division in the Enforcers as a prerequisite for admission into OCS. Felina had opted for QRF, a division that not many pilots chose due to its high dropout rate, which if failed would make it next to impossible to get into the OCS pilot school. Felina felt she had something to prove, wanting to get out of the shadow of her last name.

The training for QRF was intense, most of it occurring at Camp Wirehair, located just outside of Megakat Springs in the middle of the desert. Felina recalled one particular 12-mile ruck hike up the tedious _Mt. Maynor Faller_ that gave her blisters so bad her feet bled for days. Because of its infamous reputation, the peak was informally known by trainees under a more profane nickname involving the letters "M" and "F."

It was there Felina learned how to fight smarter and shoot better, so much so that she could do reloading drills in her sleep. Felina had excelled there, and as she remembered the experience, she couldn't help but wonder if her life in the Enforcers would have been better if she had stayed in the QRF instead of pushing ahead to get into the pilot program.

_No point in worrying about what-ifs. There's a more important what-now going on._

"Yeah," Felina said, answering the paratrooper's guess, feeling more uncomfortable with every passing second.

"That's good," she said, and just the smallest smile appeared on her lips. "I've been eager to find out who's better."

Felina drew her sidearm, the metal slide of the gun dragging across the leather of the holster. The gun only made it up halfway as the paratrooper sprang forward, grabbing the top of the Glock with both hands, shoving it down and to the side while rotating her body and driving her back into Felina's front.

Felina let out an exhale that was a mixture of surprise and anger, as the paratrooper's superior leverage tore the weapon from her grasp. It clattered loudly on the concrete driveway of the loading bay, spinning for three full rotations until it came to a stop seven feet away.

Felina quickly used her free hand to drive her forearm into the paratrooper's back, successfully shoving her forward and away.

The woman stumbled but quickly regained her composure, turning around, fists brought up in front of her.

"I gotta give you credit," Felina said as she took a step back, bringing up her own fists and spreading her feet at shoulder-width, taking an on-guard boxer's stance. "You're pretty fast."

"I know," the woman replied, making use of diagonal footwork, edging in close to Felina, keeping her head low to her shoulders.

Felina found herself on the defensive, trying to match, the two orbiting each other. The paratrooper let out a few jabs with her left fist. Felina ducked just before each attempted strike, feeling her ears grazed.

"Nice technique," Felina said, feeling her pulse racing, keeping her fists up defensively.

The paratrooper smirked and prepared what appeared to be another jab with her left fist, but instead struck Felina's left arm near the shoulder with a right hook.

Felina's deltoid region exploded in a maelstrom of agony, the freshly bandaged injuries from earlier in the evening giving more than their fair share of protest. She swore it hadn't hurt nearly as bad when the glass had initially pierced her skin. Unwillingly Felina let out an audible grunt of pain, stumbling back, grasping the injured spot with her other hand.

"My apologies," the paratrooper said, moving to close the distance. "You're not at your best."

Felina felt herself growing irritated, and gritted her teeth, blocking a second right hook with her forearms. Seeing the opportunity, she sent a jab of her own back, catching the paratrooper in the side of the face. The opponent's head snapped to the side, and Felina felt the skin of her knuckles underneath the thin leather gloves break.

The paratrooper quickly regained her stance, and was no longer smirking.

_Look for an opening. Look for an opening…_

Felina could feel the sweat building on her brow, the cold of winter seemingly absent now. She was starting to lose track of who was doing what. Several punches, hooks and jabs had been exchanged. The adrenaline was adding to the fog of the fight, with what felt like a long encounter probably being no more than seconds, minutes at most.

Felina was breathing heavily now, nearly out-of-breath, her nose running, face and torso aching, the vision out of her left eye slightly blurred. Her opponent was faring about the same, some blood at the corner of her mouth. Felina didn't dare think about how her own face probably looked at the moment.

Felina no longer cared about making an arrest, or figuring out what this person was doing sitting in a stolen vehicle. Whether a burglary was being committed or not was not a concern. Felina was in a battle.

_I am not going to lose._

"Tell me," the paratrooper said, out of breath, the red beret miraculously still atop her head. "What's a QRF soldier doing writing tickets?"

"None of your business," Felina spat out the words, tasting her own blood in her mouth.

"I think," the opponent said, as they both circled each other, fists up. "I think it's made you soft."

Felina growled, not caring if she was being baited, lunging forward, ready to drive a fist into the paratrooper's face with all the strength she had left. Felina instantly regretted the action, as she had left her midsection open. The opponent had deftly moved to the side and brought her right first up and into Felina's exposed stomach.

The hundreds of crunches Felina had done on a daily basis made her midsection tight and toned, but in that moment her abs felt like jelly. Her mouth hung open in shock, the muscles all over her body failing in tandem. Felina doubled over, falling to her knees, feeling the urge to vomit.

"You put up a good fight," the paratrooper said, standing over Felina as she reached down and grabbed a chunk of the former-lieutenant's hair, pulling on it.

Felina felt herself being forced to look upward.

_She's right. I have gotten soft…_

A fireworks display of stars filed Felina's vision. She felt something dislodge and shoot out of her mouth, and realized it was one of her molars. The ground came rushing up at her, the side of her face hitting the concrete, and coming to a rest. Her heart pounded in her temples, and from her perspective she could see her tooth rolling to a stop a short distance away.

The edges of her vision started to fill with blackness, a ringing in her ears making everything sound echoey and distant. She swore she could see several more pairs of legs, wearing the same shoes and pants.

_There had been others?_

"An impressive display," a voice was saying, different from the paratrooper's. "She has potential."

One pair of legs was different, the shoes a shiny black, the color of the pants a reddish hue, almost pink. The voice was attached to those legs. Felina's eyes drifted up, but she could not see the face, the darkness creeping to completeness.

_The voice, I know that voice…_

Felina passed out, her last thought before losing consciousness was a self-admonishing one.

_This is the second time tonight I've been knocked out…_


	6. Chapter 5

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

"Ready forward cannons!" shouted the voice of Ulysses Feral.

Felina blinked, finding herself in unfamiliar surroundings, the smell of sea salt filling her nostrils. All around her was chaos. Men dressed in anachronistic sailor uniforms brushed past her. The ground, which she quickly realized was a wooden deck, lurched beneath her, and a wave crashed over the nearby railing.

_I'm on a ship. And not just any ship… _

It appeared to be a late 18th century frigate, its three large masts poking into the grey sky above, the winds rippling the cloth sails. Above and behind on the quarterdeck, a crewman was spinning the large helm wheel. Standing beside him, wearing a tri-corner hat, a blue waistcoat with tails hanging to behind the knees, with large cuffs of at least six inches on the wrists, and frills coming off his collar, was her uncle.

_Or at least someone who looks an awful lot like him, weird clothes not withstanding._

"Lieutenant, prepare to lead the charge on my order!" he shouted, looking directly at her.

Feeling confused, Felina pointed at herself, and realized that she too was dressed similarly. A tri-corner hat sat atop her head, her hair tied back into a neat ponytail. She was wearing a blue waistcoat seemingly tailored to her figure, adorned with several gold buttons, covering an off-white shirt and pants. A brown leather strap was hanging over her shoulder, attached to a screw-tip powder horn. In her free hand she held a black powder musket with a barrel of at least 30 inches. It was heavy, and as another wave crashed she quickly grasped it with both hands to keep from dropping it.

"Steady!" Ulysses Feral was shouting, steadying himself on the railing, but keeping his attention focused ahead.

The ship was moving at incredible speed through the Port of Nebelung, passing by flaming wrecks and adrift debris. There were several remnants of wave-break walls, damaged by battle, causing what would normally be a calm body of water to be battered by the waves of the ocean. Felina could feel more than hear cannon fire, which seemed to be originating from their destination: the Great Hall.

It was a palace, constructed from white marble, with intricate archways supporting its multiple levels. Atop several sections, round domes with pointed tops gave it an ancient, other-worldly appearance. It was not pristine, however, as several blackened and collapsed areas were smoldering.

"There's nowhere safe to come ashore…" Felina said to herself, taking in the scene, noting several of the docks were on fire or splintered into useless sections.

She then remembered the dramatic legend of famed Enforcer Jonas Spangle. He was the captain of the _Megakat Spirit_. On the last day of the Battle of Nebelung, he had run the ship aground, directly into the Great Hall's landing. Those who told the tale had said the _Spirit's_ bowsprit had actually pierced the walls of the palace, allowing the troops entry.

An explosion of splinters, iron and fire knocked Felina down on her chest. Several screams of surprise and pain surrounded her, sailors falling to the deck dead or sent overboard. Ropes went flying as the full-rigged vessel seemed to be coming apart, its mizzenmast teetering backward.

"Fire!" the voice of Feral, Felina now realized was actually Captain Jonas, commanded.

Felina got to her knees just in time to see the two forward mounted cannons recoil backward, flame and smoke shooting out the barrels like a dragon breathing fire. Ahead, the walls of the palace were so close they filled her vision. Several enemy artillery platforms exploded from the close range attack of the _Spirit_, sending soldiers flying.

Gunfire sporadically impacted the deck, and several more sailors met their ends. Felina took cover behind a deck mounted cannon, the enemy gunfire ricocheting off of its thick iron. She could see the muzzle flashes atop the walls where enemy marksmen took aim from.

The helmsman was dead, his unmoving body slumped over the wheel. Captain Jonas pulled the body off and took control of the ship himself.

"Lieutenant, prepare to disembark!" Jonas shouted, his eyes filled with a terrifying purpose.

From her position, she couldn't see how close the wall was, but from the remaining crew's collective expressions, Felina knew it was time to grab hold of something.

The _Spirit_, riding one last wave, drove bow-first into the damaged wall. The front of the ship came aground, up and over a small dock where enemy soldiers scattered, several cannons displaced. Large, several-ton cubic stones collapsed in all directions. The marksmen who had been shooting moments before now fell from the parapet walks.

The ship came to a rest, and the interior of the Great Hall of Nebelung was now exposed to the outside world.

Felina was no expert in colonial naval vessels, but she knew that the _Spirit_ had sustained irreparable damage, and did not offer any safety.

"Alright, let's go!" she shouted to anyone who would listen as she got to her feet, taking one last glance toward the quarterdeck. The Captain was slung over the remains of the forward facing railing, the helm broken and on the deck. He was dead.

Felina's eyes narrowed.

Jonas had famously died steering the _Spirit_ into its desperate and final assault. It was a legendary act in Enforcer lore. Many places in the academy bore his name, including the target range where Felina had earned her sharpshooter qualification.

Despite knowing all of this, it was difficult to look at, and she had to remind herself that it wasn't her uncle.

The remnants of the crew spilled over the side of the deck's railing, dropping the short distance onto the rubble that acted as an uneven ramp that led down into the Great Hall. Felina grabbed her musket and vaulted over herself. Jumping between disheveled stones she arrived on the polished marble floor, now covered in pebbles, and skidded to a stop.

The Enforcers were engaged in close combat with the remaining Chartreux Pirates, the violence of battle heavily contrasted by the palace's majestic interior. Several of her impromptu comrades were using the three story tall white columns that lined the perimeter of the chamber for cover, while the pirates had set up what appeared to be a last stand barricade around the elevated throne platform.

Someone was shouting in a foreign language, probably _Slavonic_, and as Felina rushed forward to take cover, she identified the voice as the pirate's leader: Sergey Balikirev. He was shouting at his men, just barely visible behind the makeshift barricade, waving a large cutlass defiantly in the air. Felina knew it had to be him, because she knew his defeat signaled the end of the battle.

"This is it…" Felina said out loud and then turned to the Enforcers. "Prepare to charge the barricade!"

The soldiers looked dubiously at one another, fear in their eyes. The barricade was a short distance away, and incomplete. A unified charge would likely breach it easily, but not without obvious casualties. Felina snarled and reached down to pick up a primed and ready flintlock pistol off a nearby corpse, gripping the musket long gun in her other hand.

"Form up on me, and I swear if I die due to your cowardice I'll be the one who greets you in hell!" she shouted, and then stepped forward, chunks of the column breaking off near her head from gunfire. "Now, charge!"

Felina sprinted forward, her face a wide-eyed expression of rage and determination. She didn't know what had inspired the sense of overwhelming emotion now beating in her heart. None of this made any sense, but she didn't care, and quickly closed the distance to the barricade, leaping up on top of it. She brought up the flintlock pistol and pulled the trigger.

The hammer dropped and sparked, the flint striking past the frizzen and igniting the black powder in the pan. Unlike modern firearms, the gun fired a split second after the trigger was pulled, and Felina compensated for it. She hit her target, an unwashed looking pirate, who stared up at her in surprise, the business end of his sidearm about to point at her. He fell to the floor, dead.

Behind her, Felina heard the unintelligible shouts of her fellow Enforcers. All had followed her and were charging over and, in places, through the barricade. The gunshots were deafening, and Felina's ears rang in protest. She ignored them, dropping the pistol and transitioning to the musket, taking aim at another pirate who was within arm's reach, charging at her with a rusty cutlass. She pulled the trigger and shot him point-blank.

He fell, but another was right behind him. Felina brought the now empty firearm up and collided the butt of the stock with the face of the approaching enemy, the cutlass piercing Felina's waistcoat and narrowly missing her torso. The weapon's heavy wood composition made it an effective club and the pirate fell to the ground, incapacitated.

The scene was a soiree of violence, and Felina felt herself the master of ceremonies.

She lost herself in the action, her thinking mind shut off as years of training commandeered her every move, simply reacting to the situation.

Another gunshot. Felina felt it whiz through the air as it took off her tri-corner hat, which until this point had miraculously stayed on her head. It was an incredible near miss, and she turned to the origin.

Despite the language barrier, Felina knew Sergey Balikirev had said something profane as he tossed aside a spent flintlock and brought up his cutlass, charging at Felina. For an inexplicable reason, Felina found herself smiling, and rushed forward to meet him, holding the musket by its barrel.

Sergey slashed his sword with full force, an attempt at decapitation. Felina blocked the blade with the musket, the sharp edge cutting deeply into the wood, stopping as it hit the metal barrel. It stuck, and she tugged back on it. Caught off guard, Sergey was pulled forward. Felina drove her shoulder into his exposed chest and he fell back, dropping to his knees.

Standing over him, Felina tossed aside the stuck weapons. Around her, the battle continued, but it seemed more distant and vague. As if the world was now solely focussing on her and the defeated opponent in front of her.

"You put up a good fight," Felina said as she reached down and grabbed a fistful of Sergey's hair, pulling up on it, forcing him to look at her.

Unexpectedly, Sergey's face was no longer his own. Like a mirror, his face was now hers. Despite this, Felina did not hesitate, and drew her right fist back and punched the likeness with all her might. The knuckle's in Felina's fist ached at the impact, but the damage was done.

The other Felina Feral fell to the floor, losing a tooth that went flying out of her mouth.

The battle was over, and as adrenaline and the uncharacteristic bloodlust she felt began to subside, the thinking elements of her brain returned. She felt herself filled with a terrifying confusion.

_Why am I fighting myself?_

* * *

"You know, we don't have a punch card," the medic said. "No buying six sandwiches and getting the seventh free around here."

Felina opened her eyes and saw the face of the same EMT who had been feeding her oxygen earlier in the day. She was once again lying on a stretcher, a fresh bandage wrapped across her forehead, where a cold compress also sat.

"You should," Felina slurred, noticing her mouth felt swollen, her tongue feeling the vacant real estate caused by a missing tooth.

"I can recommend a good dentist," the medic said as he held up a clear Lucite polybag with a bloodied molar inside of it.

"Thanks," Felina muttered as she sat up and took the bag, feeling a rush in her head.

"You sounded pretty out of it earlier," the medic said. "Saying something about being the one to greet me in hell?"

"Yeah…" Felina said, looking away as she took off the cold compress. "Just weird, punchy dreams, I guess."

"I gave you a dose of paracetamol," the medic continued. "I'd also offer to take you to the hospital, but I get the feeling I already know your answer."

"You probably do," Felina said as she stood up and took in the surroundings. She was still in the parking lot near the loading bay. The moving truck was gone, the bay door left wide open. Several Enforcer police officers were on the scene. One of them was walking toward her. The medic sighed and shook his head as he carted the stretcher back to a nearby awaiting ambulance.

"Feral!" the officer called out to her.

"That's me," Felina said unenthusiastically.

"You okay to walk?" the officer asked.

"I've had worse," Felina said as she stepped forward, whatever drug the medic had given her was starting to kick in.

"Well, good, because the Sarge wants you in his office," the officer said in a foreboding tone.

* * *

"I don't think you're a healthy person," Sergeant Joseph Daniels said, pacing as well as he could around his cramped office in Precinct 58.

The rundown, wood-patterned aesthetic was present in abundance, along with several exposed pipes near the ceiling. An old map of Megakat City, yellowed by age with several push pins stuck in it hung on the far wall. A metal, military-surplus desk, covered in paperwork and a flesh-colored 15-inch CRT computer monitor dominated the center of the room. The window overlooked the alley behind the precinct. There were no inspiring cityscape views to be found here.

Felina sat in a metal folding chair, legs crossed, slouched slightly as she held an icepack to the side of her face. She imagined her expression was one of severe indifference.

"Because," Joe said as he turned, an action exaggerated by his rotund figure. "A healthy person doesn't get beaten to a pulp twice in one shift for no good reason."

"A kid was going to burn alive if I didn't step in," Felina said with the same affect others might use to describe a casual afternoon of running errands. "Some smoke inhalation caused me to lose consciousness for a little while. Not really what I'd call beaten to a pulp."

"Oh, so you want to argue semantics with me?" Joe said, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"I don't really want to argue anything with you, Sergeant," Felina said, her eyes drifting, not making contact.

"Hey!" Joe shouted and he snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Pay attention when I'm talking to you."

"Sure thing," Felina said as she took the compress off of her face and crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair, her eyes meeting his. "You've got my complete attention."

"You know, Feral, I don't know how life can make it any clearer to you," Joe said as he stopped pacing and walked behind his desk. He reached for a manilla folder. "I know your type. You think you're some kind of badass. That the rules don't apply to you."

"Clearly they do," Felina said. "Else I wouldn't be stuck in this detail."

"I've read through your file," Joe said as he opened the folder and flipped through several pages inside. "Now, I don't know if it's because of who you're related to or what, but anyone else with this list of problems and they'd be kicked off the force."

Felina felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but she clenched her teeth, making her injured face hurt.

"That upset you?" Joe asked.

"Not really," Felina lied.

Joe set the folder back down on his cluttered desk and took a seat in his worn out chair. It creaked like a rusty door.

"To top things off you go and get beat up by a girl," Joe said. "I thought you were some kind of specially trained super soldier?"

Apparently Joe had already read Felina's statement. She had given it to another officer while sitting outside the Sarge's office like an elementary school student waiting to see the principal.

"Maybe this precinct just rubbed off on me too much," Felina said. "With all the sitting around and getting fat everyone does."

Joe's eyes narrowed and he pointed a stubby finger at her.

"You're suspended," Joe said and he picked up a pen and started scribbling on an official looking document.

"For what?" Felina asked, sitting up straight.

"For medical reasons," Joe said and then added his signature to the piece of paper.

"I'm fine," Felina said.

_Well, maybe not fine, but well enough to do this job._

"You're anything but," Joe said and slid the paper across his desk.

Felina groaned and took the paper, standing up.

"I don't want to see you back here for at least a week," Joe said. "And when you do get back, consider yourself on notice. The last thing I need is some hotshot getting herself killed and ruining my precinct's stats in the department."

"Thanks for your concern," Felina muttered as she let herself out.


	7. Chapter 6

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

The time was nearing midnight as Felina entered the lobby of the Happy Grove Apartment building. She had narrowly caught the last L train for the day, thankfully preventing her from either wasting money on a cab or walking the several dozen blocks in the cold weather.

She ignored her mailbox, and began the arduous climb up five flights of stairs. Happy Grove was advertised as a residence where tenants could enjoy the vintage city life experience. Felina had determined that was code for obsolete and barely maintained. But, at just under four figures a month, it was affordable, especially for being located within the city.

_That matters even more now than it used to._

With the reassignment and the reduction in rank, Felina was only making about half as much money, and her dwindling bank account was starting to reflect an impending financial crisis. Normally she didn't dwell on such thoughts, but it was better than thinking about how much her body was aching with each step she took up the wooden, creaky stairs.

_I wonder if this suspension is without pay…_

Felina arrived at the fifth floor, and traveled the short distance to a door marked 508. The five was still upside-down due to the top nail having fallen out. She dug into a pouch that was attached to her duty belt and withdrew a set of keys, jangling them as she found the correct one and inserted it into the deadbolt.

She opened the door and strode inside, closing it behind herself. The interior of her apartment was the same as she had left it. Seeing the empty pizza box on her living room coffee table made her stomach rumble, and she regretted not stopping by a takeout restaurant before making her way up the stairs.

"I guess it's pizza again," she said to herself as she slid her torn and burnt jacket off, dropping it unceremoniously to the ground. She pulled her cell phone out of a pocket and speed dialed Rosetti's Pizzeria. The food was always mediocre at best, and Felina imagined that whoever Rosetti was, making pizzas was really not his thing. But, it was the only place nearby open this late that delivered.

"Rosetti's, what can I do for you?" said a young male voice on the other end.

"I'll have what I had last night," Felina said.

"Oh, 212-555-3862 again?" the person said, likely reading the caller ID. "Medium-sized feta, linguiça, artichoke and olives?"

"Yeah, that's it," Felina said, talking into her phone as she clumsily kicked off one of her boots with the use of her free hand.

"That'll be $25.45," the person returned. "Still at 508 in Happy Grove?"

"Unfortunately," Felina said as she managed to get the second boot off, and started to take off her duty belt, dropping it on the sofa.

"Should be there in about 30 minutes," he said.

"Thanks," Felina confirmed and hung up with a sigh.

_Just enough time to take to take a hot shower._

Felina avoided the various cardboard boxes, piles of laundry and unsorted equipment that covered her floor, making her way to the bathroom and unbuttoning the light blue shirt she wore. She shrugged it off, the attached shiny yellow badge clattering on the abused hardwood floor.

She reached down and spun the simple faucet mechanism in the bathtub. Within moments hot water was jetting out the shower-head nozzle, and filled the small bathroom with a misty steam. She finished disrobing and stepped into the hot spray of water, feeling it soak through her hair and run down her shoulders. She didn't bother to remove the bandages on her arms.

She closed her eyes, placing both hands on the shower wall, leaning her head down under the nozzle. Whatever remnants of the fire and the fight from earlier felt like they were washing away.

_That fight._

Despite the anger she felt at the time it was said, Felina knew her opponent was right.

_All the drinking, the depression, being treated like an outsider, isolated, removed from what I love to do. It has made me soft. _

But, what do do about it, Felina wondered.

It felt like a long shower, but not long enough as she heard a quick succession of raps on her door. She turned the dial and shut off the water, stepping out and wrapping a towel around herself. She took wet footsteps out of her bathroom and across the hardwood floor, her hair still dripping down the sides of her face. She glanced at the analog clock that hung from the farthest wall. 20 minutes had passed.

There was more knocking on the door.

"Hang on," Felina called out as she fished her wallet out of the duty belt on the sofa. "You're early."

She managed to find an assortment of bills totaling 30 dollars, and she stepped up to the door and opened it up, not particularly caring about her immodest appearance. Despite eating pizza and drinking on a regular basis, along with being reassigned to a less physically taxing position, she had kept herself in shape. One of the few points of pride that remained with her.

"Wish you guys were always this fast-" Felina began, her attention shifting from the money she had in her hand to the person at her doorstep.

Only it wasn't the delivery boy.

"Catch you at a bad time?" Turmoil asked.

Felina's eyes went wide as she dropped the money and took a step back. Her bare foot slipped on the small puddle of water that had formed underneath her, and she tumbled back, landing on her behind.

"I'll just let myself in," Turmoil continued as she strode in, her heeled black boots clacking on the floor as the large operatic cape she wore flowed behind her.

Felina was now wordlessly scooting back, her expression panicked, the palms of her hands and the heels of her bare feet squeaking on the hardwood. She looked over her shoulder, seeing her duty belt still resting on the sofa. The grip of her Glock 17 was visible.

"Now now," Turmoil said as she began to walk along the perimeter of the room, seemingly interested in the various items littered about. "There's no need for that."

"What are you doing here?" Felina asked, still awkwardly sitting on the floor, the towel she was wearing somehow still in place. She could see a holster resting on Turmoil's hip, the grip of a firearm sticking out from just under a leather flap.

_No way I could get to my Glock before she can draw on me…_

"I felt the need to come here in-person," Turmoil said as a particular cardboard box caught her attention. Much like the deputy mayor had done earlier, Turmoil reached down and picked up the framed photo of Felina's OCS graduation.

"To do what?" Felina asked, and decided to risk standing up.

"To apologize," Turmoil said, appearing unconcerned as she took a close look at the photo.

"Apologize?" Felina repeated, now on her feet.

"For Captain Elizaveta's oversight regarding the collision at the intersection," Turmoil said. "She is very good at what she does, but delicacy sometimes eludes her."

"I'm not the one you should be saying sorry to," Felina said.

"When the time is right I'll make sure the mother and daughter are given more than adequate compensation," Turmoil said, and then pointed at one of the individuals in the photo. "There you are."

Felina glanced and saw the image of herself from nearly a decade prior. Eyes wide with a look of accomplishment. A face not yet dampened by the disappointments that awaited her. Felina frowned.

"You're very unique, Miss Feral," Turmoil said as she gently set the frame back in the box.

"I've been called a lot of things," Felina said as she crossed her arms.

"No doubt," Turmoil said as she continued forward, running the finger of her gloved hand along a shelf filled with books, photos and assorted junk until it came to a stop on a particular item.

With great interest, Turmoil grasped the hilt of the Mameluke sword that had been left leaning there.

Felina felt herself tense, but said nothing as the unwelcome guest drew the sword from its sheath and held it up to examine it.

"Not many know this," Turmoil said as she held the sword, moving it about in her hand, checking its weight and balance. "The famous Chartreaux pirate Sergey Balikirev was an ancestor of mine."

Felina felt her mood soften for a brief instant. Though she wasn't going to admit it, she felt impressed that Turmoil was able to infer the history of the weapon she held.

_She knows a little history. Well, so what?_

Felina felt the need to go on the offensive, and drew on her own knowledge to cherry-pick a less flattering fact.

"Well, if the stories about him are true, then that includes you and half that region of the world," Felina said snidely.

In an instant, the tip of the sword was planted against Felina's cheek, the coldness of the blade feeling like the fingertips of death. It had happened so fast, with such precision, that Felina was frozen in place, unable to react. She could see Turmoil gripping the weapon with her index finger and thumb placed forward on the hilt, arm extended but not fully. Her feet were in a dueling stance, the dominant foot forward to match the arm that held the weapon. Turmoil's head was titled slightly, her eyes a mixture of amusement and confidence.

_She's no stranger to swordplay…_

"There's no need to be impolite," Turmoil said as she slowly brought the blade back.

Felina could feel it slide across her cheek. Once it cleared, she reached up with a hand to check for a wound. Surprised, she found none, and realized that only the flat end of the sword had made contact.

"I suppose there isn't," Felina said as Turmoil re-sheathed the sword and set it back down.

Felina was irritated, but she also felt something else she didn't expect. A sense of…admiration?

_She's tough and knows how to fight. And, she's made that loud and clear without having to draw blood._

It was an understated communication that Felina hadn't encountered often, and when she did, always admired.

"Good," Turmoil said. "Because I think you have been involved in enough impoliteness already."

"What do you mean?" Felina asked, once again taking note of her sidearm on the sofa out of the corner of her eye.

"The Enforcers," Turmoil said, now facing Felina. "They're not putting you to good use."

Felina frowned and didn't respond.

"That sword you have represents honor and duty, two things sorely lacking amongst your peers," Turmoil continued. "Your comrades on the force despise you, Miss. Feral, because you have the qualities they lack."

Felina rolled her eyes.

"And just what would you know about that?" Felina challenged.

"I know that you've witnessed corruption and been demonized for revealing it. I know that you've saved the lives of the leadership of this city, who in turn do not return the favor. I know that you are punished for doing your job," Turmoil said. "And most importantly, I know you live in the shadow of another whose last name has blinded others."

Felina was unprepared for those remarks, and her mind filled with case-by-case memories corresponding to each point.

_I was the sole witness to Ritz's betrayal and half of my peers still think I made it up, despite the evidence, because everyone loved Ritz. Even though I saved the Enforcer administration's collective lives, including my uncle's, from Dark Kat's conspiracy, they still didn't acknowledge me. I risked my life and my career to help the deputy mayor save this city, and I get thrown in the stockade and demoted. I save a young girl from burning alive in an auto accident and I get reprimanded. I pay my dues, rise to the top, and still get sidelined because everyone thought I'm only where I was because of who I'm related to._

Felina shook her head, knowing that her emotions were being manipulated, and tried to force herself to think rationally.

_Remember just who it was that endangered that little girl. _

"How do you know all of this?" Felina asked.

"The Enforcers are broken, Miss. Feral," Turmoil said. "Like others, I have been able to navigate its secrets as easily as you used to navigate the skies."

Felina remembered the pair of Sabres she had seen flying by earlier in the day, and felt her throat tighten as a realization she had tried to ignore became all too apparent, her gaze turning to the floor.

_I'm never going to fly again._

Turmoil walked up to Felina and placed a gloved hand on her naked shoulder. The former-lieutenant contemplated scenarios.

_She's in arm's reach. I could grab her by the wrist and hip-toss her to the ground. Or I could pull her close, break her nose, and commandeer her sidearm. _

Felina, however, did none of those things, as Turmoil spoke again.

"You may not believe it now, but you and I are kindred spirits," Turmoil said. "I have a plan that I honestly believe someone like you would appreciate. A plan that needs someone with your finesse, to make sure accidents don't happen."

Felina looked up and met Turmoil's eyes, and saw something that surprised her. Sincerity.

"I'm going to change things for the better," Turmoil continued. "Bring Megakat City the answers to the many problems it's facing. I will end the era of the super-criminal, and bring an economic stability that will last a generation. Eliminate the need for masked vigilantes who can't even finish the job."

Turmoil let go of Felina's shoulder and turned away, walking toward the still open door to the apartment. In an instant Felina could have dove over her coffee table and retrieved her gun. But, she didn't. Turmoil had filled those simple words with such an alluring confidence and compassion. Felina had rarely felt moved by a statement, her cynicism almost always in place. But, for some inexplicable reason, Felina felt something she hadn't felt in half-a-year. A spark of purpose.

"I don't expect to convince you of my intentions in one ten-minute encounter," Turmoil said as she paused at the door, speaking over her shoulder. "So, if you want to know more, I invite you to meet me in two days."

Turmoil produced an envelope and set it down on a small entryway table.

Felina said nothing, wordlessly watching Turmoil leave.

She stood there for several minutes, still wearing nothing but a bath towel, her mind contemplating what had just happened.

_She can't be right. She's one of the bad guys._

Felina shook her head and walked over to the sofa, drawing her Glock 17 from its holster, feeling slightly more comfortable with it in hand. It was at that moment she saw movement, and still feeling on edge she brought the pistol up in both hands and aimed it at the door.

A pizza box fell to the floor, hitting its corner, causing the lid to open, spilling a circular mess of molten cheese, feta, linguiça, artichoke and olives onto her hardwood floor. The Rosetti's delivery guy was standing in her doorway, hands up, a look of panic on his face.

Felina sighed and lowered the weapon, wondering just how much of a tip she would have to give now.


	8. Chapter 7

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

"The Megakat Workers Union won't stand for any notions of salary or benefit cuts!" a loud voice resonated in front of city hall. It came from a middle-aged, working class looking guy wearing a hard hat, his words amplified by the bullhorn he spoke into.

Felina was walking down the sidewalk on Main Street, watching her step as several sleeping bags, tents and other impromptu campsites filled the path. The protesters had grown in number, several standing in random groups holding signs. One in particular had a caricature of Mayor Manx drawn on it, with the words "cut his salary" scribbled in bright red letters.

Felina smirked, appreciating the likeness as she continued on her way, heading in the direction of the bullhorn, occasionally brushing shoulders. She noted there had to be at least 500 individuals gathered just outside of City Hall. Several Enforcer police officers were on the scene, standing at various intervals, looking more bored than concerned. The crowd was loud, but they hadn't been violent thus far. The officers didn't notice Felina as she walked past them, heading up the steps to the main entrance of the building.

She wasn't surprised they didn't recognize her, as she was wearing a hooded sweater and well-worn denim jeans, along with a pair of white sneakers. The hood was pulled up and her hands were in the pockets of the sweater. The weather was warmer than it had been the previous day, but there was still a chill in the air.

"We're here to let this administration know that they can't just ignore us anymore!" the bullhorn declared.

"We should strike!" someone in the crowd shouted out.

"Recall the mayor!" another voice said.

Felina managed to get around the crowd and push her way into the revolving door that led into the lobby. She imagined at one point it must have looked rather decorative, but today it looked like a shadow of what it once was. A large mural depicting the history of the city dominated the far wall. Settlers from the era of Jonas Spangle were illustrated on one end, leading up through Megawar II. Its colors were faded, and the work was in need of a refinishing.

_Kind of like the city as a whole._

A metal detector and guard stood between her and her destination: the elevators. Having made this trip several times now she was familiar with the procedure, and produced the form of ID that put her on the fast track.

"Officer Feral here to see the Deputy Mayor," Felina said, holding up her badge.

"You again," the security guard said distractedly, glancing down at a clipboard with a list of names. "Alright, metal items on the tray, then head on through."

Felina placed her badge, phone and keys on the tray, and successfully went through the metal detector, collecting her items on the other side. With that done, she approached the elevator, pressed the button and waited.

The wait wasn't long, as the conveyance dinged and the doors slid open. As she prepared to step inside she stopped in her tracks. A lone occupant disembarked, standing at six and a half feet tall, wearing a grey overcoat with blue highlights and patterned epaulettes on the shoulders. The knot of a black tie was just visible under his collar.

It was Commander Ulysses Feral. Her uncle. The man who had not spoken to her in over half-a-year.

Felina froze, a look of surprise on her face. For a moment, their eyes met, and she was tempted to say something, but didn't. Ulysses Feral's face was saying everything loud and clear.

Disappointment.

His eyes turned forward and he strode out of the elevator car, walking past Felina. She frowned, and boarded the elevator before the doors closed.

* * *

"What happened to your face?" Callie asked, her voice filled with shock as she rose from her seat. The top of the Deputy Mayor's desk resembled a fort with walls made from stacks of papers.

"Trust me, it's a lot better now," Felina said as she completed entering.

With the rows of filing cabinets, walls covered in maps and whiteboards, and bundles of hard copies filling various in and out boxes, Felina imagined the office of Callie Briggs to be the politician's version of a war room.

"You didn't, uh…" Callie asked, hesitating in her question.

"Start another fight at Shenanigan's?" Felina asked. "No, I got this shiner on the job."

"Oh," Callie said. "Well, excuse the mess. I know you might not believe it, but it's a lot more organized now thanks to Erin."

"Erin?" Felina asked, and then recalled Callie's words from yesterday. "Oh yeah, the intern slave."

"She's out at the moment running a few errands for me," Callie said. "Maybe you'll get a chance to meet her next time you stop by."

Felina shrugged and walked over to the office's window.

"Are you okay?" Callie asked.

Felina didn't answer immediately as she peeked through the window. She could see the crowd of protesters below had grown in size, and despite being on the 65th floor, she could still faintly hear shouts and chants.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felina said. "My black eye is visible, but I get the feeling yours isn't."

Callie sighed and joined Felina at the window, taking in the scene as well.

"This administration has survived terrorist attacks, giant monsters, super criminals, natural disasters, and tax hikes," Callie said. "But in all of those circumstances we had the support of the people. Now, with this budget crisis, the failing economy, levels of unemployment at 17% and rising…"

Felina nodded, letting Callie continue.

"It hasn't been this bad since I first became Deputy Mayor," Callie admitted. "In fact, it may even be worse."

"Does my uncle have something to do with that?" Felina asked.

"I suppose you saw him on the way here," Callie guessed. "And, to answer your question… it's complicated."

"He's still not letting you off the hook for rescuing the SWAT Kats, is he?" Felina asked.

"You may not know this, but Ulysses Feral is very good at playing politics," Callie said with a small smirk. "That whole deal for providing the Enforcers with emergency funding cost me all the capital I had left."

"So that he wouldn't cause you and the Mayor's Office problems for your little adventure with me?" Felina surmised.

"You're catching on," Callie said. "I can't really hold it against him. It's all in the game, as they say."

"A game with rules that people make up as they go," Felina muttered.

"Sometimes it's better to be ignorant about how things really work in this city," Callie said. "People enjoy hotdogs, but they don't want to see how they're made."

"Not sure it's the same thing," Felina said. "Someone doesn't lose their job because they learned how a hotdog was made."

Callie sighed.

"I'm trying my hardest, Felina," Callie said. "You can't change the system from the outside. Others on the council would've given Commander Feral _carte blanche_ at every opportunity, and this city would be in even worse economic shape. Don't get me wrong, the Enforcers are important, but what's the point of having a military defense force if there's nothing left to defend?"

"Well, they don't seem to be very appreciative at the moment," Felina observed, gesturing with her thumb to the union boss below who was still speaking through a bullhorn.

"Oh, is Ross O'Reilly at it again?" Callie asked with a chuckle. "MK Union was a big supporter of ours during the last election, but they understandably don't like the furloughs. What's scary is they have enough members to put a serious dent in a petition to get a recall election started."

"Why not just stop the furloughs?" Felina asked.

"Well, if you happen to have an extra $100 billion lying around maybe you could help with that," Callie said with a smile.

"I'll check under my sofa cushions," Felina replied in kind, and then another thought came to mind. "If that happens, couldn't you, you know, run yourself? For mayor, I mean."

Callie Briggs smirked again, and Felina could tell she was impressed.

"Yes, I could," Callie said as she turned away and walked over to her desk, retrieving her handbag.

"Well, are you?" Felina asked, following along.

"No," Callie said. "As cynical as this business is, and despite my growing disagreements with the Mayor, I've always prided myself and others by one thing: loyalty."

"Even if that loyalty pulls you into Manx's metaphorical grave alongside him?" Felina asked.

"That won't happen," Callie said confidently. "Now, aren't you and I supposed to get some lunch?"

"Yeah, I know a place," Felina said.

* * *

"It's a good burger," Callie said in-between chews from the driver-side seat of her car. "But I'm not sure it was worth the drive."

Felina was sitting in the passenger seat of Callie's green sedan, sipping on a vanilla milkshake. The car was parked in a dirt lot adjacent to Rob's Burger Shack. It was truth in advertising, as the building was barely large enough to house two workers. Aside from an outdoor picnic table, it offered no accommodations for guests. A large billboard stood next to the shack, with large words in bold lettering declaring LAST FOOD / GAS UNTIL MEGAKAT SPRINGS. They were the only patrons at the moment, and Felina imagined that the place was a lot busier in the summertime.

"It might not be," Felina replied. "But we won't know for sure until we go there."

"Hmm?" Callie asked, sipping on her soda.

Rob's Burger Shack was on the side of Highway 50, a two-lane road that served as a less used route to get to Megakat Springs ever since the completion of the freeway system several decades ago. It was a lonely road with little traffic.

But, ahead five miles was a place that Felina knew Callie was familiar with. Just barely within the confines of the city limits, was the Megakat City Salvage Yard.

"I shared a meal with them during my lunch break last night," Felina said.

Callie stopped sipping.

"You're right, it was weird watching them pretend to be someone else," Felina said.

"I'm not scheduled for a tune-up or oil change for another two months…" Callie said.

"They seemed to know a lot about me," Felina said, giving Callie a sidelong glance.

Callie smiled, knowing she had been caught, and held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I may have asked them to stop by and see how you were doing," Callie said. "Even if we didn't know they were the SWAT Kats, Chance and Jake would still understand what you've been going through. I just thought that maybe if you had someone to talk to it'd…"

"It'd what?" Felina asked. "Cheer me up?"

"Maybe," Callie said. "Or, maybe just let you know that you're not alone."

"Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't need cheering up," Felina said, and sipped her milkshake again. It slurped loudly.

"Why do you think we should pay them a visit?" Callie asked. "Does it have to do with that black eye you've got?"

Felina frowned, and didn't answer.

"I'll take that as a yes," Callie said as she turned her key in the ignition, causing the car's engine to rumble to life.

* * *

The sedan sped down Highway 50 doing about 65 miles per hour. Felina noted Callie was doing ten over the speed limit.

"I hope a traffic officer doesn't catch me speeding," Callie remarked humorously.

"I left my ticket-book at the office," Felina replied.

On either side of the highway was a growing emptiness, the beginnings of Megakat Desert, sparsely populated by sagebrush and the occasional cactus. The cold of January and the lack of snow made everything look dead. In the rear-view mirror the skyline of the city could be seen growing smaller.

On the horizon, several shapes started to come into view. Felina could see, spread out over a hundred acres, contained behind a chain-link fence with razor-wire wound across the top, the remains of airplanes, parked in the desert. They were in various states of being gutted for parts. Felina recognized a Boeing 727 with the upper-half of its fuselage cut off, the bodies of C-130s missing their wings, a small squadron of Enforcer Sabres with their nose cones cut off and their engines removed. Several aircraft power-plants were stacked on pallets and lined up. Everything looked old and beaten by time.

It was the bone yard, where airplanes went to die.

"This place always has such a surreal quality to it," Callie said.

The fence ran parallel to the highway, and as they progressed the type of scrap began to transition to vehicles, with large multistory stacks of crushed cars in rows that went on for hundreds of feet.

"A little known fact is that a section of this place is also leased to the city by the Enforcers to act as a traditional salvage yard, seeing as there was ample real-estate," Callie said.

"Isn't that like the city leasing to itself?" Felina asked.

"Well, it's not technically a lease in the traditional sense…" Callie began, but stopped short as she slowed the sedan and made a left turn, passing through an open sliding gate.

Felina followed Callie's gaze and saw what it was that had distracted her. Chance and Jake's garage, the only real building on the property. It normally fit the worn down aesthetic of the salvage yard, but even by those standards it looked amiss.

Felina had only seen it once prior, but it was enough to know that something was wrong. Several windows looked broken and boarded up. Large cracks in the walls went from ground to roof. Most noticeable of all, the large, rectangular sign that greeted visitors with a "mechanic on duty" announcement was toppled over. Several crushed cars were lying about nearby, as if they'd been in a stack that had toppled over.

"What happened here-" Callie began, and then slammed the brakes.

Felina was unprepared for the abrupt stop, and what was left of her milkshake went flying out of her hand and onto the car's dashboard.

"Crud, sorry about that," Felina started to apologize, and then saw what had caused Callie to brake.

Just in front of them was a massive hole in the ground. Callie had stopped just short of driving into it.

Felina unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, stepping outside, feeling the cool of the January air on her nose and ears. She walked towards the hole, her sneakers making gravely footsteps on the dirt path. Callie had exited the vehicle as well, and followed alongside Felina.

"That's a big hole," Felina said with a whistle, and turned to glance at Callie.

The Deputy Mayor's face looked white with concern.

"Oh no, you don't think they're…" Callie apparently couldn't finish her sentence.

Before Felina could reply the sound of a sectional door opening interrupted them. Felina saw Callie's composure instantly change as soon as she saw the two mechanics wearing overalls and baseball caps exit the garage.

"Thank goodness," Callie said and walked up to meet them, leaving Felina standing at the edge of the hole.

"Callie!" Chance Furlong said, the surprise apparent in his voice. "We didn't know you were coming here."

"Yeah, your tune-up isn't for another four weeks," Jake Clawson said. "The place is a bit of a mess at the moment."

"No kidding," Callie said. "What happened here?"

"Uh," Jake said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Would you believe it was a sinkhole?" Chance asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Felina audibly scoffed.

"I've seen enough target remains at the range to know an impact zone when I see it," Felina said as she turned away from the hole and approached the other three.

_There's no way out of this one, guys. Your secret's up._

Chance and Jake exchanged a glance. They were no doubt having another wordless conversation.

"Burke and Murray bought that excuse," Jake muttered with a shrug, breaking the silence. Chance rolled his eyes as his attention focused on Felina.

"Who did that to your face?" Chance asked, his tone more serious.

"I'm willing to bet it's the same person responsible for redecorating your place," Felina said as she held up the envelope that Turmoil had left in her apartment. "So, let's end the B.S., T-Bone."

His eyes narrowed, and any pretenses of subterfuge evaporated. Though he wasn't wearing the mask, Felina could tell that it was no longer Chance Furlong standing in front of her. It was the SWAT Kat: T-Bone.

"Alright, but we can't talk out here," he said.


	9. Chapter 8

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

"That's an interesting story, Felina," Jake said as he led the group through the garage, eventually arriving at the corner of a messy kitchen. "Sorry that you had such a bad night."

"Could've been worse," Felina said, following along. "They could've killed me."

"But they didn't," Chance said, and then shoved aside a low hanging light fixture that had partially detached from the ceiling. "Watch your head, Miss Briggs."

"Thanks," Callie said, ducking down.

Jake pulled a rug back to reveal a metal trapdoor in the floor. Felina quirked an eyebrow as the smaller of the two mechanics knelt down and spun a dial on a combination lock. It popped open, and he pulled upwards on a collapsible handle. Below, Felina could see sets of metal rungs embedded into a concrete wall that led down into darkness.

_So, this is the secret lair of the SWAT Kats._

Her curiosity was piqued.

"You know, this really isn't fair," Jake said as he went down first, climbing down the rungs, using them as a ladder.

"How's that?" Felina asked, following after.

"We spent years working on this place," Jake said from below. "And now that we actually have guests, they don't get to see it at its best."

A golden light abruptly came on, apparently switched on by Jake who was standing on a dirty concrete floor. The light was coming from several construction lamps docked atop freestanding tripods. Felina reached the floor to stand beside him, and took in the sight before her.

It was a hangar, with rows of bays, duct work and a high ceiling with several support beams running in perpendicular patterns. In the middle was a large, circular dock.

_A turntable? Or maybe it was an elevator? _

Along the walls and floors there were scorched remains of machinery, and several piles of debris. Up above, the sun dimly shown down through the hole in the ceiling that led to the outside world. Despite the damage, it was an impressive structure, and though Felina was a stranger in this place, she could tell that something extra was wrong.

"Where's the Turbokat?" Felina asked.

"Stolen," said Chance, who was just now stepping off the ladder, Callie just in front of him.

"Oh wow," Callie said as she took in the scene.

"Hey, why don't I show you around, Miss Briggs," Jake said as he lead the Deputy Mayor off to the side, leaving Chance and Felina alone.

"So, what's in the letter?" Chance asked, sounding as though he was barely containing his irritation.

_I guess I wouldn't be happy either if I was in his shoes right now._

"See for yourself," Felina said and handed it to him.

Chance took the already open envelope and withdrew the handwritten note it contained, carefully looking it over. Felina already knew what it said.

_Sunday. Hangar 87. 1 p.m. _

"Turmoil's in town, but why do I get the feeling you knew that?" Felina asked.

"She paid us a personal visit two weeks ago," Chance replied and then gestured to the surroundings. "Helped herself to all of this."

"Even the Turbokat?" Felina asked.

"Used a Chinook and airlifted 'er right on up," Chance said as he pointed upwards at the hole in the ceiling that led to the outside world.

"Wow," Felina said, looking up at the hole.

They stood in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, why the invite?" Chance asked.

"Not sure," Felina said as she began to pace across the floor.

"You didn't do anything to impress her, did you?" Chance asked, following along.

"I might have gotten involved in a fist-fight with one of her lackeys," Felina said.

"Oh yeah?" Chance asked.

"I would've won, too, if it wasn't for me getting stabbed in my arms earlier in the night," Felina said. "I was doing fine until she jabbed me in a fresh wound."

"I hate cheap shots," Chance said, his tone sounding more amiable. "This lackey wouldn't happen to have been wearing a red beret and a striped shirt, would she?"

"A Telnyashka," Felina said.

"So, she's a real Spetzkatz," Chance sad, scratching his chin in thought. "Wonder what she's doing hanging out with Turmoil."

"Probably enjoying life as a hired gun," Felina said. "Which brings me back to that invitation."

"Turmoil likes to think she's great at recognizing talent, and even greater at recruiting it," Chance said. "That's probably why she's so bold in her declarations."

"She really thinks I'd join her?" Felina asked.

"Would you?" Chance returned.

Felina was quiet, and didn't reply, opting to stare at the floor. Chance sighed and shook his head.

"Look, I know you've had a rough year. Probably a lot of rough years. And Turmoil, well, she can probably smell the disgruntled employee scent on you from a mile away," Chance said. "I'm not gonna lie and say that whatever offer she's made you, or is about to make for you, is all bad. But-"

"But what?" Felina interrupted, looking up. "That I'm an Enforcer? That I'm supposed to be an agent of the law? That I'm supposed to work for a government that can't even manage to tie its own shoelaces without getting into a debate? That I'm supposed to just shut up and tow the line? Remain supportive of an organization that's been anything but toward me?"

Chance's eyes narrowed. It was as if whatever ideas he'd had in his mind about her were suddenly discarded. He spoke in a firm tone.

"I never thought I'd be the one to say this, but yeah, you do have to play by certain rules," he said.

"That's rich coming from you," Felina said with a laugh.

Chance nodded, and Felina could tell he was biting his tongue.

_Gee, am I upsetting you? _

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chance asked.

"It means that I don't need to be condescended to," Felina said as she pointed her thumb at herself, and then pointed at him. "By an Enforcer reject who likes to wear a mask and play hero."

Chance's expression went sour, and Felina could tell she had struck a nerve.

"You know, I'll bet you go through life thinking that the world is always against you," Chance said as he stepped up to her. "But in reality, you're the only constant that pushes people away."

Felina frowned and stepped forward, getting directly in Chance's face. Being about the same height, they stood eye-to-eye. Felina wasn't sure why she was feeling so angry.

Maybe it was the pent up frustration from her demotion and reassignment. Maybe it was Sergeant Joe Daniels's antagonistic attitude toward her. Maybe it was the lack of trust she witnessed in her peers when they accused her of lying about the traitor Captain Ritz. Maybe it was Callie Briggs's inability to make things right. Maybe it was the fact she had lost a fight to Turmoil's lackey, the so-called Captain Elizaveta. Maybe it was because Turmoil was right…

Another thought crept into the back of her mind.

_Is that why I keep having those dreams? Is that my brain trying to make sense of all this somehow?_

The thought did not last long, however, as other frustrations resurfaced.

_What right does he have to say anything about me? This is the same guy who misled you about who he really was. He's a liar, and he took advantage of your kindness._

_"I just came here for the free drinks and to reminisce about some old times," Chance had said at Shenanigan's last year._

_That was a lie. _

Chance was not backing down, their steely gaze still focused on each other. In his eyes, she could see his own frustrations and anger, too.

"When I push people away," Felina began. "They know it."

With that, she shoved him in the chest with both hands, hard. Caught off-guard, Chance stumbled back, narrowly keeping from falling down. Out of the corner of her eye, Felina could see Jake and Callie on the opposite side of the hangar. Both with shocked expressions.

"Okay," Chance said, as he collected himself.

He returned the shove.

Felina's body still ached from the previous evening's fight, and the impact had more effect than it normally would have. She stumbled back and fell to one knee.

"Guys, hey!" Jake called out as he ran up to both of them. "What's going on?"

Callie was a short distance behind him.

"She started it," Chance said.

"Yeah," Felina said as she stood back up, and began to approach Chance anew. "And I'm gonna finish it, too."

"Felina, whatever's going on between you two, let's not resort to violence," Callie began as Jake rushed forward to get in-between the two.

"No, go on, let her, Jake," Chance was nearly shouting. "She thinks she's so much better than us, don't you?"

"Better than some washout who gets kicked off the force and has to live on a junkyard?" Felina said, pointing a finger.

"It beats working as an over-glorified meter maid!" Chance replied.

"Enough!" Callie shouted.

The other three froze, Callie's outburst catching them off-guard.

Felina had never heard the Deputy Mayor raise her voice like that before.

"I get it, okay? Callie said. "We're all upset and frustrated. Some of us for more obvious reasons than others."

Callie looked in Chance's direction when she said that, which caused him to avert his gaze almost shamefully.

_Just what were Jake and Callie talking about?_

"But we need to move past all of that if we're going to come up with a solution," Callie continued. "Felina, as you're no doubt aware by now Turmoil's forces came here, stole the Turbokat, the SWAT Kats's weapons, and burned what they couldn't bring with them."

Felina didn't reply, keeping silent, her attention still focused on Chance. Her fists were clenched at her sides.

"Now, from what Jake's told me, they have nothing left, not even a spare blue jumpsuit," Callie said. "Which means that for all intents and purposes, the SWAT Kats are out of business."

That was something that Felina hadn't really had time to consider, and the consequences of all that made her pause.

"Out of business, huh?" Felina asked, glancing at Chance.

"For the time being," Chance replied, still looking away.

"And we've got no leads on Turmoil," Jake said from between the two, relaxing as the would be fighters had softened their stances.

"Don't you guys have some kind of tracking system?" Felina asked.

"We did," Jake said, gesturing to the end of the room where several large computer displays were smashed to pieces, decorated with what looked to be bullet holes. "But our equipment's been destroyed."

"Well, things seem pretty dire," Felina dryly remarked, and pondered the possibilities.

Felina had witnessed first hand what things were like in Megakat City without the SWAT Kats. When they'd last disappeared, the Metallikats had run amok in the city, killing one of its representatives and kidnapping the Deputy Mayor. The Enforcers should have been able to handle the situation, but they didn't. Miscommunication and what might as well have been labeled as poor leadership exacerbated the situation. Felina had to defy orders to enact a daring, and admittedly risky, rescue of Callie Briggs. It was another instance of insubordination that had been referenced in her court martial.

It was unfair that the universe seemed to dictate that the SWAT Kats were the only ones able to handle certain threats. But, as Felina was well aware, life wasn't fair.

_Megakat City needs these two. Even if one of them is being a jerk right now._

"Maybe…" Felina began. "Maybe there's something I can do…"

The other three were quiet, all eyes on her.

"As I was starting to tell Chance, I think Turmoil is trying to recruit me," Felina said. "After I fought her lackey, she showed up at my apartment, and left me that."

Felina nodded toward the envelope still in Chance's possession.

"I dunno, maybe I can accept the invitation and show up. Get an idea of what's going on," Felina said.

"Turmoil showed up in-person at your apartment?" Callie asked, sounding shocked. "Why would she do that?"

"According to her, to apologize," Felina said.

"For you getting beat up?" Callie asked.

"No," Felina said with a frown, not appreciating Callie's inference. "For causing a traffic accident earlier in the day I responded to."

In hindsight, Felina realized that had Turmoil apologized for her fight with Captain Elizaveta, Felina would not have listened as readily. The apology would have implied weakness on her part, and Felina's pride wouldn't have allowed it.

_"You and I are kindred spirits," Turmoil had said. Maybe she does know me after all._

"You know," Jake spoke up. "I was wondering about that. What were they doing at the place on 50th Street?"

"Don't know," Felina said. "I glanced at the police report when I got back to my precinct. Some kind of microchip theft. A lot of them."

Jake scratched his chin in thought but didn't say anything more.

"It's too dangerous," Chance said, finally weighing in.

"Why is that?" Felina asked, crossing her arms, still feeling on edge toward the larger of the two mechanics.

"I'll be honest with you. Jake and I thought that maybe you could help us out somehow. That's what we were getting at back at the diner," Chance said, his eyes narrowing. "But now, I'm not so sure you're up to the job."

"And you are?" Felina asked. "Just what's your plan, anyway? Sit around in an empty, burned-out bunker, hoping your problems will just go away and fix themselves?"

"And holing up in an apartment that should be condemned and trying to drink yourself to death every night is a better plan?" Chance returned.

Felina's blood boiled, and she shot a glance at Callie Briggs. Callie averted her gaze. She felt oddly upset at the amount of information the Deputy Mayor had shared about her with these two.

_You make a great spy, Ms. Briggs. _

"I don't have to take this," Felina said, and walked away, turning her back on the other three.

* * *

Felina had exited the SWAT Kats's underground hangar by climbing up through the hole in the ceiling, a feat made easy due to several piles of debris acting more or less as stairs.

She now walked among the aged remains of gutted aircraft that sat in rows along the perimeter of the salvage yard. They were a silent air force of dead planes ranging in size and design. She approached one in particular, a T-38 Talon. Its long, dart-like fuselage was covered in rusty brown patches, the paint having long succumbed to a lifetime of abuse from the elements. Its canopy was missing, and several spiderwebs ran along the extended landing gear. The engine was stripped out, leaving a mess of old wires frayed outward like an open wound.

The Talon had always had a special place in Felina's heart, as it was the first aircraft she had ever flown after passing her flight school exams at OCS. It was highly common for it to be used as a trainer jet.

Felina sighed and used a nearby wooden pallet as a step-ladder, and climbed up to take a seat on the Talon's relatively short starboard wing. Somewhere above in the overcast skies the sun was getting lower on the horizon, and the shadows of the aircraft, while muted, became longer.

In the distance, past the chain-link fence, was Megakat Desert, where the horizon turned into an ominous expanse.

"It looks a little bit more lively in the spring," the voice of Jake Clawson said from below.

Felina frowned and looked down to see the shorter of the two mechanics standing just underneath the wing of the Talon, not too far from where her legs were hanging over the side. He had somehow managed to silently approach. Felina hid her surprise.

_You're awfully sneaky, Jake. Or should I call you Razor?_

"I can imagine," Felina replied.

"Mind if I take a seat?" he asked.

"It's your place," Felina remarked.

Jake used the same pallet to climb up and took a seat next to Felina on the Talon's wing. He didn't say anything for awhile, and when he finally did speak up the topic of conversation caught Felina by surprise.

"You remember the finger?" Jake asked.

Felina involuntarily snickered, as old memories came flooding back to her.

"Yeah," she replied.

The flight deck of Enforcer Headquarters was a hazardous environment, and the concept of safety procedure was regularly hammered into everyone's mind. It didn't matter if you were a pilot or a member of the deck personnel. You had to sit through Technical Sergeant Thurman's longwinded lecture.

"Follow the rules and you get to go home in one piece," Thurman had said while pacing in front of a seated group of about 50, including Felina. "Heed your safety observers, our guardian angels dressed in white."

Thurman gestured to a few of the deck crew who wore white shirts.

"Because if you don't…" Thurman said as he turned to a table behind him and withdrew an item and held it up high for all to see. "Then you might wind up like Lt. Steven Sanders."

Felina had grimaced at the item, which turned out to be a mason jar filled with formaldehyde. Inside of it was a long, coiled, sterile looking tendril, at the end of which was a finger. Around the finger was a gold ring.

"This is all that's left of the lieutenant," Thurman said as he handed out the jar, which was passed among the seated audience. "He failed to follow procedure for removing all rings, watches and other unnecessaries."

The jar had reached Felina, and she curiously looked it over, feeling a mixture of nausea and trepidation as she did.

"During a jump exercise from a C-130, his improperly packed shoot opened prematurely, and as he was pulled out his hand brushed past one of the hard points. The ring caught, and what's in the jar you're passing around is the result."

Felina passed the jar to the next person, and questioned whether or not she'd be able to eat lunch that day. Or ever.

"Now, don't think that just because you're not parachuting that something similar can't happen to you. We've got highly pressurized steam catapults that could just as easily catch a lose item and send your sorry butt plummeting a hundred stories," Thurman continued. "And believe me, you'll have plenty of time to make your peace if you do."

"You think it was real?" Jake asked, a wry grin on his face, interrupting Felina's reminiscing.

"Does it matter?" Felina asked back. "It did the job. I've never worn any jewelry since."

Jake laughed, and once again the two sat in silence for a few more moments. This time Felina spoke up.

"I had a dream the other day," Felina said.

"Oh?" Jake asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not sure it was a dream, or a hallucination brought on by head trauma," Felina continued.

"I'd imagine there's little difference," Jake said.

"I dreamed I was among the original Enforcers, centuries ago, aboard the _Megakat Spirit_, landing in dramatic fashion at the Great Hall of Nebelung, charging in, guns blazing, routing out the Chartreaux Pirates, and even fighting Sergey Balikirev himself," Felina described, keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jake nod, listening to every word.

"I even shouted out that famous line," Felina continued.

"'I'll be the one who greets you in hell?'" Jake asked, a look of amusement on his face.

"Yeah, that's the one," Felina said, and couldn't help but smile herself. "Thing is, after it was nearly all over, good old Sergey wasn't there anymore."

Felina's smile disappeared, and was replaced with an expression of uncertainty.

"It was myself I was fighting," Felina said. "And I didn't hesitate to finish the job, either."

"That's quite a dream," Jake said with a subdued whistle.

A few moments passed before Felina spoke again.

"I got angry with Chance back there, not because I disagreed with him," Felina said. "It's because I know he's right. At least partially."

Jake nodded.

"Thing is, maybe I do push people away, but a lot of times it's for their own good," Felina said. "Most times they'll just slow me down, or worse, get hurt."

"You know, if I may…" Jake began.

Felina glanced at Jake, and nodded.

"You sound just like Chance did when I first got to know him," Jake said. "As much as both of you may not want to admit it, you're a lot alike, and I'm not just talking about career paths."

Felina chuckled.

"Seems like I'm just like a lot of people lately," she said.

"Chance has always been really gung-ho, the first one to volunteer for a dangerous job, always determined to get it done," Jake continued. "Thing is, he'd always want to do it alone. I thought it was a pride thing at first, that he had to be the one."

"You think I'm too prideful?" Felina asked.

"But, the more I got to know Chance, while he admittedly has an ego, his distance from others wasn't about pride," Jake said, ignoring the question. "So, I thought it must be trust issues. Maybe he didn't trust other members of the team."

Felina listened.

"But, it wasn't purely a trust issue, either," Jake said. "Chance had trusted his life in others' hands at times. It was the other way around that troubled him."

Felina nodded, familiar with the leadership dilemma. Fortunately, she had never been put in a situation where she would have to order a subordinate into a dangerous situation that cost them their life. There had been close calls, but thus far she hadn't had to take that kind of responsibility. It was a scenario she had rehearsed in her mind ever since she had been awarded her gold colored 2nd lieutenant rank insignia upon graduation from OCS.

_Could I do it? Could I order someone into a situation where I know they'd die?_

Felina sighed, knowing that the caricature of herself she'd imagined in her dream, spouting out bold declarations, wasn't who she really was. Was it?

"So, you're saying I can't let myself take a higher level of responsibility, that's why I push others away, do things myself, and will ultimate destroy myself?" Felina asked.

Jake shrugged.

"I have no idea," he said with a smile, though Felina suspected that he did.

"How did Chance get over this?" Felina asked.

"He's still working on it," Jake replied. "And, it's been made more complicated by other factors…"

"Other factors?" Felina asked.

"Well, I was starting to explain to Callie how Turmoil knew who we were," Jake said. "And, I don't want to get into too much detail, but…"

"But?" Felina pressed.

"Chance and Turmoil had a relationship," Jake said. "And, it didn't end well."

"Huh," Felina said, not expecting that, but it did help to explain the situation somewhat. "So, she's doing all of this just to hurt him?"

"That's a very likely possibility," Jake said.

"Well, regardless of the personal problems you guys have with her, I can't just sit idly and do nothing," Felina said. "Especially as I have a way in."

"I know," Jake said.

Felina slid forward and dropped off the wing of the Talon, landing on her feet.

"But, before you go," Jake said as he withdrew an item from a pocket in his coveralls and tossed it down to her.

Felina caught it and looked it over. It was a familiar triangularly-shaped communicator, much like the one Callie Briggs possessed.

"Our tracking system is still down, but the encrypted network I use for communication still works," Jake said.

"Thanks," Felina said as she pocketed it. "And, thanks for listening."


	10. Chapter 9

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

Noon on Sunday at Megakat International Airport was a bustling hub of controlled chaos. Felina disembarked from a Yellow Cab and paid off the fare in cash, quickly exiting to stand on the walkway of the drop-off area.

For once she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, and awoken to find that the bruises on her body and face had considerably subsided. The wounds on her arms no longer required the bandages she had received from the paramedic. While not at 100%, she felt good enough to go through her morning routine, which consisted of several push-ups, crunches and pull-ups. A light breakfast consisting of a granola bar and orange juice had sent her on her way.

She had no doubt it was the sense of purpose that was motivating her. She was on a mission. No clear objectives, but a mission nevertheless.

Felina walked among the groups of passengers and staff that were flowing in and out of the terminal, fitting in as she wore a clean pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, white sneakers and the unzipped hooded sweater.

She had an additional item on her person as well. Tucked into the small of her back in an inside-the-waistband holster was a Glock 36, a sub-compact version of the pistol she carried on-duty. It only had a six-round magazine, but those six rounds were of the .45 ACP caliber. More powerful than her regular 9mm. She carried no spare magazines.

_Not going to win a firefight armed like this, but it's still better than nothing. Just in case._

Felina arrived at a help desk and took out her wallet, showing the attendant her badge.

"Oh, the garrison is on the opposite side of the airport, officer," the attendant said.

Prior to the construction of the current Enforcer Headquarters building, most air operations were conducted out of Megakat International Airport on a reserved airstrip that occupied much of the rearmost portion of the complex. Today it was still active, though in a much smaller capacity as a base for reserve forces.

"Thanks, but I'm not looking for that," Felina said as she put her badge away. "I need to know where I can find Hangar 87."

"Oh, that's one of the private hangars that get rented out," the attendant said. "Let me just run a guest badge request with my supervisor."

"Thanks," Felina said as the attendant picked up the headset of her phone to call it in.

After a few moments she hung up the phone and smiled cheerily at Felina.

"Looks like they're expecting you," she said and pulled out a laminated card attached to a lanyard. "If you go through that door using this card, you should be able to find it."

"I appreciate it," Felina said and took the card.

The door in question was an indistinct looking one, off to the side away from any signage or heavily trafficked areas. A square sensor was embedded into the wall right next to the handle. Heaving dealt with similar security systems before, she knowingly placed the card against the square. The locking mechanism clicked and Felina pulled the door open.

Inside was a long hallway, illuminated by a row of rectangular florescent lights that cast everything in a sterile glow. A freestanding sign, with adjustable letters was just within. Felina approached the sign as the door closed behind her.

She put the lanyard around her neck, letting the card hang on display over her chest as she examined the sign. It was a directory, listing out various locations. After a moment she found the listing for Hangar 87, and began to walk down the hallway, her sneakers making the occasional squeak on the plain, tile floor.

The words on the note were still fresh in her mind.

_Sunday. Hangar 87. 1 p.m._

She walked forward, passing by closed doors on either side of her, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in anticipation.

She had, of course, considered alternatives to the course of action she was following. She could have reported the incident to Sergeant Joe Daniels, which in truth is what she should have done. But, Turmoil's words had given her pause.

_"The Enforcers are broken, Miss. Feral," Turmoil had said. "Like others, I have been able to navigate its secrets as easily as you used to navigate the skies."_

If Felina had followed procedure, Turmoil would no doubt have discovered it, and changed whatever plans were in motion.

Felina knew it was a very risky thing to do. Her record had already made her the target of those looking for a patsy in the past. And her current standing with the Enforcers was not great to say the least. Felina knew that Turmoil knew this as well.

_I have to be careful, because if I'm not, it's not just the loss of a career. There could be some serious prison time._

After several minutes, Felina arrived at a door with an engraved plate spelling out in all-caps HANGAR 87.

She stood in front of it, staring at the handle.

_"She really thinks I'd join her?" Felina had asked._

_"Would you?" Chance returned._

Felina pondered the question, giving it even more consideration now, as she quite literally stood on the precipice, the proverbial point of no return.

_What am I doing here? There's more ways for this to end bad then there are ways for it to end good. I should just turn around…_

Felina glanced over her shoulder, and saw the hallway continue distantly behind her, the exit far in the distance.

_But, there's nothing for me there, either. Just writing more traffic citations until they finally do kick me off the force for good._

Another thought came to mind, and Felina sighed.

_And then there's that girl and her mother. I didn't even bother to learn their names, or even check up on them in the hospital._

Felina's hands turned to fists as she felt guilty, even though she knew she shouldn't.

_"…someone with your finesse, to make sure accidents don't happen," Turmoil had said, addressing Felina's concerns._

Felina relaxed slightly, though doubt still weighed heavily in her mind.

_Even if she's sincere, and has all the good intentions in the world, do those ends justify hurting innocent bystanders, even if it was an accident?_

Felina knew that the Enforcers always tried to minimize what was known as collateral damage, the unintended harm or destruction of non-objectives. It was a polite way of referring to killing innocent people. How many combat operations had Felina herself been in while countering a giant monster, super criminal, or other extreme threat within the confines on Megakat City, where extreme uses of force were justified? How many bystanders had been hurt then?

_That's different, though. The Enforcers are an extension of the government, and only the government can legitimately use force._

This political science distinction was day-one knowledge taught to every recruit.

_But, what if the government can't get the job done?_

Felina knew what conclusion the SWAT Kats had reached in regards to this dilemma. But, despite her clashes with Enforcer procedures and culture, becoming a vigilante was not something that Felina had ever considered.

_That's what I'll be if I open this door._

Another thought crossed her mind, one she was surprised she hadn't thought of sooner.

Years ago Turmoil had employed scare-tactics during her attempt to ransom the skies of Megakat City, using the so-called Vertigo Cannon to send pilots into a physical delirium that caused them to lose control of their aircraft. Felina had felt the effects of the weapon herself back then.

_Scare tactic. That's a nice euphemism for attempted murder._

Felina shook her head, and wondered if maybe that Vertigo Cannon had messed with her memories somehow, as she was just beginning to realize the scope of what Turmoil was capable of.

It made her feel more guilty for even entertaining impossible notions. But, the guilt didn't make them go away, and it didn't change where she was standing now.

Felina could feel the hard, parkerized steel of the Glock 36 against her lower back, its lethal presence providing limited options. Adjacent to it in a pocket in her jeans was the communicator Jake Clawson had given to her, though it too was starting to feel more like a burden than an asset.

_This is it. No turning back._

She reached forward and grabbed the handle of the door, pausing one last time.

"Well, screw it," she said out loud and opened the door.

* * *

The first thing Felina noticed was the bright sunlight shining in through a large opening. The doors to the hangar were open, and apparently the overcast sky had dissipated while she had been walking through the airport's interior. Above, criss-crossing in intervals was a support structure keeping the thirty-foot ceiling upheld.

Felina quickly realized the hangar wasn't empty, as several women dressed in combat fatigues were mulling about, moving equipment, boxes and other assorted items from pallets and into three parked, double-bladed helicopters. They were CH-47s, better known as Chinooks.

A few of the female soldiers glanced in Felina's direction upon her entrance, but they generally ignored her, seemingly having more important things to take care of.

The scene wasn't unlike many she had participated in at the Enforcer Headquarters hangar. It felt surprisingly familiar. And welcoming.

Noting no obvious hostility, Felina continued walking forward, stepping between crates marked 7.62×39mm and 5.45×39mm. She recognized them as large quantities of ammunition for variants of the AK-47 rifle.

_Wonder what you're going to need all of that for…_

"Miss Feral," a familiar voice said from up ahead. "You're right on time."

Felina looked forward to see Turmoil ahead, though she was lacking the formal cape and blouse at the moment, instead wearing a grey shirt tucked into camouflage patterned pants, the bottoms of which in turn were tucked into black combat boots. She would have blended in with all of the others present, with the exception of the stylized peaked cap atop her head. A small, but important, symbol of command.

"Yeah, but in time for what?" Felina asked as she approached.

Turmoil was standing in front of a small, half-circle of empty folding chairs, with a free standing whiteboard behind her. It looked like the remnants of a mission briefing, as several rough drawings remaining on the whiteboard with notations written in a language Felina didn't understand.

"Please, have a seat," Turmoil said and gestured to one of the seats in the front row.

Felina quirked an eyebrow, but did as she was asked.

"You're probably wondering what you're doing here," Turmoil said as she walked over to the whiteboard.

"The thought did cross my mind," Felina replied as she crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back in her seat.

"Well, I'll tell you why you're here," Turmoil said, and she flipped the whiteboard on its hinges, revealing an opposite side that had more notations written on it, including an illustration of what looked to be some kind of island. Felina recognized the coordinates displayed.

"That somewhere in the Balinese Sea?" Felina asked.

"Very impressive," Turmoil said. "Yes, and this is Cymric."

"Never heard of it," Felina said.

"That's what the occupant would like to hear," Turmoil said with a smile. "It's a mostly deserted island in a tropical environment, with sections of rainforest and open, plain-like expanses. It's most distinguishable feature is its semi-active volcano, Mt. Dragon Li."

"Sounds like a nice vacation destination," Felina said. "I'm sure whoever lives there loves it."

"Oh, I have no doubt that he does," Turmoil said, and turned to face Felina.

"So, are you going to wait for me to ask the question, or are you just going to tell me?" Felina asked.

"I told you that I would change things in Megakat City," Turmoil said, ignoring the question.

"Yeah, you said something about that," Felina said. "But I don't see what some remote island in the middle of nowhere has to do with that. And for that matter, I don't know what raiding an office for parts does, either."

Felina was tempted to mention her knowledge of the theft of the SWAT Kats belongings, particularly the Turbokat, but didn't want to play that card just yet.

Turmoil smiled.

"Often times it's the little things no one expects that can make all the difference," Turmoil continued. "But, I prefer showing to telling."

With that, Turmoil reached down and picked up a flight helmet off the floor with one hand and tossed it underhanded at Felina.

It landed in her lap, catching her slightly off-guard.

"What's this for?" Felina asked, holding it up.

"We're going on a day-trip," Turmoil said. "And, you're flying."

* * *

The idea of being behind the controls of an aircraft again filled Felina with an excitement she hadn't felt in over half-a-year. It had taken her all the discipline she could muster to not allow her emotions to appear on her face, though inside she was smiling from ear-to-ear.

Felina was given a dark-green g-suit to put on over her clothes. It was a familiar process, and as soon as she had completed it, she turned to find Turmoil already wearing hers.

"This way," Turmoil said and began to walk around to the other side of the hangar which had been obscured from view by the group of Chinooks and stacks of supplies. Felina followed along, the flight helmet tucked under her arm.

_Wonder what it's going to be. Probably a Talon, or maybe a MiG…_

The two rounded a stack of pallets marked as MREs, and this time Felina couldn't help but gasp.

Despite sporting a brownish-tan paint scheme with a MARPAT-style digital camouflage pattern, Felina recognized the unmistakable fuselage shape of the Turbokat. But, that's not what made her gasp. Parked beside it, in a row, were others exactly like it. She counted six total, going back to the farthest wall of the hangar. They would have been indistinguishable from each other, excerpt for the large white numbers painted on the outer-facing side of the stabilizers. One through six.

Felina looked at Turmoil, at a loss for words.

"Yes, the legendary Turbokat," Turmoil said, approaching Turbokat One. "A unique air-superiority and ground-attack fighter jet."

Turmoil walked along the underside, running a finger across it.

"Well, not so unique anymore," Turmoil said.

"How did you…" Felina began.

"It's been a long running project of mine," Turmoil said. "When I first encountered the SWAT Kats, I had their jet in my possession for some time. Long enough to begin the process of reverse-engineering it."

"But," Turmoil continued. "There were still several components that I needed from it to finalize the project. So, last month, I paid the SWAT Kats a visit and borrowed their aircraft."

"Borrowed?" Felina asked.

"Well, perhaps that's too generous a term," Turmoil said with a snicker. "But, with it in hand, I disassembled it, copied the components, and used the information to build these. I assure you, they are just as potent as the original, if not more so."

"And what do you plan on doing with these?" Felina asked, feeling a lump in her throat as she walked up to Turbokat One.

When the techno-crook Hard Drive had commandeered the SWAT Kat's jet, he'd used it to effortlessly take apart much of the Enforcer's air force. This had occurred while Felina was in her final weeks of training at OCS, and was an incident that was frequently cited by her uncle in both deriding the SWAT Kats and asking the city for more research and development funding. There had been several advancements made since then, but in her gut Felina knew that the SWAT Kat's jet was still an unparalleled force to be reckoned with.

_And Turmoil has a half-dozen of them._

Turmoil did not answer, nor did she attempt to hide her grin as she took off the peaked cap and put on her own flight helmet and ascended a boarding ladder. She climbed into the cockpit, the canopy already open, and took the rear seat.

_Yeah, I get it. You prefer showing to telling._

Felina frowned and put on her own flight helmet as she climbed the ladder and took the forward seat, and strapped herself in. The concealed firearm she was carrying made things uncomfortable, but not so much that it was unbearable.

"Tower, this is cargo transport 362 announcing departure," Turmoil said into her helmet's mic, which Felina could hear in her own helmet's speakers.

"Roger that, 362," a female voice returned over the radio. "You are clear for departure on runway 25."

Felina frowned.

"The tower's gonna notice we're not a transport," Felina said.

"Do not concern yourself," Turmoil said confidently. "Now, taxi us out."

The canopy slid shut, sealing the two occupants inside the cockpit. Felina noticed one of the soldiers below retracted the ladder and moved it aside, allowing for a clear path to the entrance of the hangar where the sun shown brightly on the awaiting airfield. She flipped the helmet's visor down over her eyes.

Felina glanced over the control system to find it highly similar to the configuration used in the Enforcers. In hindsight, it now seemed obvious why that was. She flipped a row of switches and then grasped the throttle in her left hand.

The triple power plants of Turbokat One rumbled to life, and Felina could feel the vibration in her bones.

_This thing has power, alright._

With great familiarity, she pressed the floor paddles with her feet, steering the landing gear. In moments the jet moved forward and emerged from the hangar. The world outside was filled with large numbers of aircraft, mostly passenger jets that were in the process of taking off and landing, while others sat lined up, waiting for their turns to taxi or dock with the airport's terminals.

To Felina's relief, runway 25 was directly in front of the hangar, likely reserved for smaller, private craft. She swung the nose of the jet around to line up appropriately, and pulled a lever next to the throttle to extend the flaps.

Seeing no obstructions in the path, Felina throttled up. The worry and concerns of her current situation seemed to melt away, and she allowed a grin to cross her lips.

_Let's see just how potent this thing is._

Though it wasn't necessary on a runway this size, Felina throttled up to full-afterburner. She could feel, more than hear, the roar of the engines as she was pressed back into her seat, the world outside the canopy rushing forward in a blur of motion.

Though not as abrupt as the catapult-driven, short runway takeoffs of Enforcer Headquarters, it was still exhilarating. She pulled back on the joystick and just as soon they were in the air, the expanse of Megakat City moving by underneath, growing smaller with every passing second.

Felina realized she had been holding her breath, and took a moment to exhale. Turmoil must have noticed as her voice came through Felina's helmet.

"This is where you belong," Turmoil said.

_Yeah, maybe it is…_


	11. Chapter 10

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

To Felina's surprise the tower hadn't made any attempts to re-contact them, which made her wonder just how far Turmoil's influence went.

_Does she have people everywhere?_

Turmoil had instructed her to head in the direction of those coordinates that had been scribbled on the whiteboard. That was nearly an hour ago, and at Turbokat One's current cruising speed they would be within view of the destination any minute now.

During the course of the trip thus far, Felina hadn't felt the need to converse much, preferring to silently enjoy what may be the last time she'd ever fly a super-sonic jet. If it was indeed the last time she'd ever fly, she couldn't imagine a better aircraft to do it in.

Despite being much larger than the Sabres she had grown accustomed to, it handled like an aircraft half its size, its controls feeling like a perfect balance between slippery and precise. Its fuel consumption was also more efficient, with a good 55% remaining, likely the result of the advanced supercruise system that allowed the jet to maintain super-sonic speeds without continuous afterburner use.

_Which is important, because I've seen nothing but ocean below for the past thirty minutes._

"There it is," Turmoil said, interrupting her thoughts.

Felina looked out toward the horizon, where an island grew larger as they approached.

"So that's Cymric Island?" Felina asked, but before Turmoil responded the radar system bleeped loudly with several alerts.

Felina frowned and saw several aircraft on the screen. The heads-up display that filled most of the front of the canopy illuminated with several rangefinders, the distances in meters rapidly counting down.

"Friendlies?" Felina asked, feeling a growing concern. They were far outside the jurisdiction of Megakat City, in open airspace. It could be anyone out here.

"Probably not," Turmoil said, her light tone not matching the seriousness of the situation at all.

Felina reached forward to the radio, prepared to send out a broadcast on all channels, when the launch-detection system blared loudly. Two additional blips appeared on the radar, coming in fast.

_Missiles._

Out of reflex reinforced by years of practice, Felina yanked the joystick to the side while pushing forward on the throttle, causing an abrupt change in direction that threw Turbokat One into a corkscrew loop that sent them plummeting downwards.

The digital altimeter was counting down, the numbers ticking like a stopwatch but in reverse. 12,000 meters quickly turned to 11,000 meters. The abrupt descent made Felina feel weightless, and she could feel the g-suits bladders fill with air to keep the blood flow in her body stabilized.

The threat detection system was still blaring loudly, and at a glance Felina could see the missiles were still inbound. She quickly located a panel marked COUNTERMEASURES and flipped a switch labeled IR FLARES.

Felina hadn't bothered to ask if Turbokat One had been stocked with a payload, and due to her overall unfamiliarity with the jet she couldn't tell by its handling if it was being weighed down by one or not. The weapons system panel was currently inactive in front of her, so it didn't provide any useful information about inventory.

_Well, let's hope we didn't leave unprepared._

Felina glanced over her shoulder, the large bubble canopy providing a wide field of view. Behind her she saw the white phosphorous ignite in a pattern of lights, the contrails of which descended in varying directions.

She smiled, and threw the jet into another corkscrew turn, killing their descent and moving laterally. In their wake, two fiery explosions filled the sky.

In that same instant, two fighters streaked past, each painted red with black highlights. Felina couldn't be sure, but they looked like F-16s. They were streaking around in opposite directions, and by their positions on the radar Felina could tell they were coming around to attack again.

"Okay, what's going on?" Felina demanded into her mic.

"No time for explanations," Turmoil said calmly. "Get us behind them and I'll handle the rest."

Felina was about to say more, but the threat detection system was once again blaring.

_Alright, whoever you are. You want a dogfight? You've got one._

Using the superior speed and agility that Turbokat One offered, Felina recalled her course at OCS on basic fighter maneuvers and threw the jet into an aggressive turn while lowering the throttle again. The movement was just in time, as the sky lit up with the yellow lines of tracers. The F-16s had opened up with their canons, the large 20mm rounds narrowly missing. She felt the intense g-forces tug at her body as the world outside quickly rotated. A lesser-aircraft's frame might have buckled at the severity of the turn, and Felina hoped the rush she felt in her head wasn't an artery bursting.

The maneuver had apparently caught the aggressors off-guard, and likely with the assistance of the jet's stealthy, radar absorbing abilities, managed to slip behind them.

Felina's pulse was racing now, as perspiration built on her brow. From this vector, they had a firing solution.

Before she could issue an order to fire, Felina felt the mechanisms of the jet come to life. The bombay doors had opened, and two contrails streaked forward at the now vulnerable targets.

Much to Felina's surprise, the F-16s did not explode as the missiles found their targets. Instead they were engulfed in an array of sparks, which caused their engines to go cold. Both aircraft just as soon careened out of control and dropped out the sky.

_Those must've been the SWAT Kats's electricity missiles, whatever they're called. So, she not only copied the Turbokat, but the weapons, too…_

Felina watched out the canopy below as the pilots ejected, their parachutes opening successfully as the disabled aircraft fell into the ocean.

While not overjoyed by the fact that her attempted killers survived, she hadn't woken up this morning with the desire to kill anyone, either.

"Bring us in low, a wide arc around the island, but maintain a distance of at least 100 meters from anything on the surface at all times," Turmoil instructed.

Felina frowned, upset that she had been thrown into this situation without warning, but followed the commands anyway.

Coming in low, just 50 meters or so above the water, the island looked much larger and imposing. Smoke billowed out of the top of Mt. Dragon Li, which now seemed to take up the entirety of the forward view. It was an amazing sight to behold, and Felina followed Turmoil's instructions, keeping at least 100 meters away from anything on the surface, tilting the jet an an angle as she brought it around the island.

At the base of the volcano, the tropical forest branched out, though there were several open areas including bodies of water every so often. It matched the description, though there were extra items Felina noticed that seemed very out of place.

In regular intervals, several large satellite dishes were erected, their tops poking out of the treetop canopy. But, they didn't seem like they were meant for communication purposes. She squinted, and could swear that it looked as though the air was distorted just above them Like the picture on a television when interference make things look rippled. And then Felina realized what they were.

"Are those forcefield emitters?" Felina asked.

"Very astute," Turmoil complimented.

"With that many spread about like that…" Felina started counting the ones she could see mentally, stopping when the number exceeded thirty. "You could cover the whole island."

"That's why we're maintaining a distance of 100 meters," Turmoil said.

"But, why?" Felina asked. "Why'd you build something like this way out here?"

"Who said I built this?" Turmoil asked.

Felina frowned, and recalled the words from earlier.

_That's what the occupant would like to hear. Just who is this occupant?_

As Turbokat One rounded the island and came up to the opposite side, a half-moon shaped bay appeared. What appeared to be several palm trees lined the perimeter, with an extensive sandy beach leading into crystal blue waters that were so clear Felina could see the movement of undersea life within it.

She did not get the opportunity to appreciate the view long, as something more surprising was also in the bay. Four large ships were at rest, at least 200 meters offshore. And they weren't just any ships. Judging by their appearance, one of them was a destroyer, an_ Arleigh Burke_ class or an equivalent, another appeared to be a cruiser, probably a _Ticonderoga_ class missile ship, and the third a resupply cargo vessel.

The fourth ship, however, was the one that really caught Felina's eye. It was the largest of the group, and it appeared to be a _Wasp_ class amphibious assault ship. It was an aircraft carrier, medium sized, with several Chinook helicopters like those in the hangar back at Megkat International Airport resting on the deck.

"_Balikirev_, this is Turbokat One," Turmoil spoke into her mic.

_Named a ship after your ancestor. That's cute._

"Copy that, Commander," a female voice returned. "You're cleared for approach."

"Well, Miss Feral," Turmoil said. "Why don't you take us down?"

Felina's mind was filled with questions.

_Who's this "occupant?" Why is there a giant forcefield surrounding the island? Why does Turmoil have a carrier strike group waiting just offshore? How can she afford all of this?_

But, she knew now wasn't the time to ask, and forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Felina knew that a _Wasp_ class carrier like the _Balikirev _wasn't designed like it's larger, nuclear-powered _Nimitz_ class sister to receive traditionally landing aircraft. Felina throttled down and adjusted an extra lever to control Turbokat One's thrust vectoring system. This would reverse the intake flow, and in tandem with the third engine angling downward, create a stable hover which would allow for vertical takeoffs and landings.

It was a system Felina had briefly been exposed to when she had rescued the SWAT Kats from the clutches of Dr. Viper alongside Callie Briggs last year. It had been simple enough for a pilot like her to operate then, and it proved no more difficult now.

Within minutes she had brought the jet around, hovered above the carrier, deployed the landing gear, and descended into a light touch-down, made easier by the deck crew that was holding signaling beacons to guide them down.

Felina let out a sigh of relief as she flipped several switches and powered down the engines, thankful that the weather conditions were pristine and didn't offer any additional challenge.

"You make it look easy," Turmoil said as Turbokat One's canopy slid open.

As soon as it did Felina's senses were awash with the new climate, the salty breeze from the ocean filling her nostrils, and the tropical sun feeling warm on her face. She unstrapped her flight harness and took off her helmet, standing up to take in the view.

_It's winter in Megakat City, but out here it's summertime._

The crew attached a ladder to the side of the jet, allowing both herself and Turmoil an easy descent onto the deck of the _Balikirev. _It was incredibly similar to the goings-ons of the uppermost levels of Enforcers Headquarters. Right down the role-specific attire everyone wore.

But, Felina noticed there was one obvious difference: there were no men in sight.

As soon as Turmoil stepped foot on that deck, the present members of the crew stood at attention and saluted.

"At ease," Tumoil said upon returning the salute. "And carry-on."

The deck crew collectively relaxed their composure and went back to their duties.

Turmoil began to walk across the deck, heading for the most distinctive feature of the ship: it's superstructure, where the bridge would be.

"I'm a little late in mentioning this," Felina said as she followed along, still wearing the g-suit. "But you seem to have a fairly strict hiring policy."

"You could say that," Turmoil said with a smile as she approached a closed bulkhead hatch. There was little activity on the deck, with each of the helicopters securely tethered. Felina glanced over her shoulder to see Turbokat One being similarly secured.

A female armed guard wearing fatigues similar to the group back at the airport opened the hatch, allowing the two to enter. As Felina passed, she couldn't help but notice what appeared to be a _Stechkin_ automatic pistol in the guard's holster.

"Seriously, though, do you have any men working for you at all?" Felina asked, as Turmoil led the way up a narrow flight of steps. Felina had to keep her head low to avoid hitting various conduits and supports that ran just overhead.

"Only when the situation requires it," Turmoil replied, and soon the two emerged into a more open area, where large glass view ports ran all around the perimeter of the room, giving a wide view of the carrier's deck and the nearby island, with the puffing Mt. Dragon Li ominously ahead.

Several women dressed in tan, short-sleeved, officer-style uniforms stood at various control consoles, their hair cut short, with dark-blue caps atop their heads. Some of them were speaking in a foreign language into microphones.

As soon as Turmoil stepped into view, one of the officers snapped to attention.

"Commander on deck!" the officer called out. She wore a white peaked cap that rested atop her short brown hair, with a less ornate pattern than Turmoil's, signifying a lesser, but still important rank.

The other officers in the room stood at attention and saluted.

Felina was starting to have flashbacks of BCT where the importance of saluting one's superior officers was beaten into each recruit's mindset. Having been an officer herself for much of her career, and with the more informal atmosphere the group of Enforcer fighter pilots offered, Felina had rarely found herself saluting someone of higher rank outside of public or ceremonial occasions.

"At ease, and back to your stations," Turmoil again said as she turned her attention to the officer who'd made the announcement. "Lt. Durov, what is the status of the interdiction?"

"Sir, nothing has been allowed in or out," Lt. Durov reported. "Several enemy F-16s have attempted to come within attack range, but our missile ship made short work of them."

"Excellent," Turmoil said. "Though, I think you missed two of them."

Lt. Durov's expression changed ever so slightly to one that was a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"Sir, those enemy fighters appeared just as you entered the local airspace," Lt. Durov said. "We could not engage them without risk to yourself."

"Perfectly understandable, lieutenant," Turmoil said. "They were no match for our guest."

Lt. Durov glanced at Felina.

"Hi," Felina said and gave a halfhearted wave.

"I'll expect a full report by this evening, lieutenant," Turmoil said. "But, I can already tell you've done an excellent job. Dismissed."

"Thank you sir," Lt. Durov said, and saluted once more before returning to her post at the far end of the bridge.

"So, I've been patient, and I've seen the things you wanted me to see," Felina said as she crossed her arms. "But, I'm still no closer to understanding what's going on. In fact, you've almost gotten me killed, too."

"You give the opposition too much credit," Turmoil said as she walked forward, her back to Felina.

"Can we cut the flattery, please?" Felina asked.

"Alright, Miss Feral," Turmoil said as she turned around to face Felina, and gestured toward the island. "I told you that I am going to make a positive difference in Megakat City."

"Yeah," Felina said. "And I asked you what some island in the middle of nowhere has to do with that?"

"There has been a presence in Megakat City that has grown in its viciousness over the years. Like a cancer it's gotten stronger as your city has grown weaker," Turmoil said. "Despite the combined efforts of the Enforcers and even the SWAT Kats, it persists."

"If it's something they couldn't solve, what makes you think you can?" Felina asked, tiring of the guessing games.

"Because they were lacking," Turmoil said. "Perhaps they had the tools, but they lacked the discipline. Or maybe they lacked the vision. Or perhaps, they lacked the will."

Turmoil stepped forward, walking up to Felina, standing less than a foot away.

"I have the tools, and I have the will," Turmoil said. "And, I can see it in your eyes, that you possess it, too. That spark. You can do what needs to be done."

Felina frowned.

"Why did you bring me here?" Felina asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Turmoil asked. "I'm here to put an end to Dark Kat. And you're going to help."


	12. Chapter 11

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

_Dark Kat._

It was a name that stirred the emotions of any who heard it. To most, the name inspired feelings of fear and dread. Wanted by the law enforcement agencies of several governments the world over, Dark Kat topped everyone's most wanted list. He fancied himself some kind of super criminal mastermind, and his actions did little to suggest otherwise. Prior to his debut in Megakat City over a decade prior, he was thought to be just a myth, the product of hearsay among the unscrupulous characters of the criminal underworld. But, as Megakat City, and the newly promoted Commander Ulysses Feral of the Enforcers learned, Dark Kat proved to be very real when he attempted to blow up Enforcer's Headquarters in a daring aerial raid.

In hindsight, Felina now realized that it was the same incident that Chance Furlong and Jake Clawson were kicked off the force over for disobeying orders. Somehow, during the altercation, Dark Kat had been stopped, but he had also escaped the scene, disappearing for several years.

Unfortunately, Dark Kat hadn't stayed that way. With increasing escalation, Dark Kat would return and attempt to either conquer or destroy Megakat City, either overtly through the use of nuclear weapons or more subtly by manipulating backstage events through assassinations or other espionage-related activities.

Dark Kat evaded capture and death in an almost supernatural way, which made bringing him to any kind of justice thus far unachievable to everyone including the SWAT Kats.

The previous year, Felina had been victim to Dark Kat's latest known scheme involving a robotic duplicate of herself being used in an assassination attempt of the city's leadership in conjunction with a coup of the Enforcers. It was a plan made possible by Felina's former boss, retiring CAG Captain Ritz, who'd cited being motivated by a personal vendetta against Ulysses Feral. Felina had confronted the traitorous Ritz, but due to time-sensitive circumstances, had to abandon him in the woods outside Megakat Caverns State Park.

To this day, Ritz's whereabouts were still unknown, a fact that hampered the investigation that had led some to call into question Felina's testimony.

But, all of that was in the past. Now, Felina was standing on the bridge of an aircraft carrier sitting offshore of Cymric Island in the waters of the Balinese Sea, where another three naval vessels also waited in support. An island where the active volcano of the ominous Mt. Dragon Li puffed like a chimney-stack, with the mainland protected by the largest forcefield network Felina had ever seen.

She was here by the invitation of another well-known criminal, Turmoil, whose lackey had narrowly beaten Felina in a fist fight two days earlier. Turmoil, while evasive, had thus far been nothing but sympathetic to Felina's current plight in regards to the Enforcers. Though Turmoil's known criminal history paled in comparison to the known atrocities of Dark Kat, she was still on the other side of the law.

But, despite that history, Turmoil had said she would make a positive difference in Megakat City. And for some reason, Felina was tempted to believe her, especially now, as those words seemed to be being backed up.

"I'm here to put an end to Dark Kat," Turmoil said. "And you're going to help."

Felina stood there, her mind racing.

_How did she manage to corner Dark Kat? What's he doing on this island? What does she need my help for?_

And then another thought came to mind.

_What if she succeeds?_

From what Felina had witnessed thus far, Turmoil had assembled a capable fighting force that was easily on par with the Megakat City Enforcers. Probably more so if one factored in the capabilities of the six Turbokat copies that had been made and the budget crisis that had taken its toll on defense. And Felina had only seen six of those jets. There was no reason Turmoil couldn't have made more. If Turmoil's plan to oust Dark Kat came to fruition, who would be next? What would stop her from sailing directly into Megakat Bay afterward?

"What if I say no?" Felina asked.

Turmoil smiled. It was a knowing smile, like the kind someone made when they had already seen a movie and knew how it ended.

"We both know you won't," Turmoil said.

Felina frowned, not appreciating the mild condescension. Though, Turmoil was right. Felina had seen too much and been sidelined for far too long. Regardless of who was doing the pressuring or why, Dark Kat was cornered. Felina couldn't ignore that. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

This was action, and it couldn't call any louder.

"Okay," Felina said. "But you need to stop talking in riddles and give me specifics from now on. Deal?"

"Agreed," Turmoil said, and then called out across the bridge. "Lt. Durov. Give our guest a tour and fill her in on the mission parameters."

"Aye aye, Commander," Lt. Durov responded and approached Felina, gesturing with her hand back down the entryway steps. "This way, miss."

* * *

The tour had lasted the better part of an hour, as Lt. Durov led Felina throughout the ship. While not as large as the _Nimitz_ class, dry-docked _Reginald R. Manx_ that seemed to have sat in Megakat Bay for forever, the Balikirev was still an impressive ship. Durov had unemotionally given the numbers. A crew complement of 100, with another 100 Spetzkatz soldiers on-hand. It was a formidable, if light, force. Another 25 crew members on each of the ships making up the carrier strike group. Add to that another 25 pilots and Turmoil's forces numbered 400. By military standards, this was a skeleton crew, but due to automated processes and longer shifts, Turmoil's group of women seemed unhindered by their numbers.

Aside from personnel, Felina had seen an entire squadron of Chinook helicopters, with half a dozen on deck and others in the hangar below. Felina had been shown the armory, where rows upon rows of AK-47s and the newer AK-74s rested in cages. Several RPG launchers, mortars, and RPK-74 light machine guns made up the rest of the weapons, along with ample ammunition stores to use them.

_She has enough people, weapons and air support to conduct a small war._

And that's when Felina remembered the communicator that Jake Clawson had given her. It still occupied a pocket in her jeans, and the Glock 36 was still hidden in the small of her back. No one had bothered to frisk her.

At first she had thought that a stupid oversight on Turmoil's part, but now that Felina had been in aerial combat and was now witnessing everything the convicted air-terrorist had at her disposal, Felina realized it wasn't stupidity. It was confidence, and trust.

_Or manipulation…_

Felina wasn't oblivious to the fact that everything Turmoil had said was what Felina had desperately wanted to hear.

_This all seems too good to be true._

Lt. Durov's explanation of the circumstances did little to reduce the appeal.

"We've been inderdicting Dark Kat's forces here for one month," Lt. Durov explained as the two walked through a narrow corridor. "The volcano, Mt. Dragon Li, provides a limitless geo-thermal energy source that's being used to power the forcefield that covers much of Cymric Island."

"How powerful is that forcefield?" Felina asked.

"Powerful enough to repulse any conventional attack," Lt. Durov said. "And, it's configured in a one-way direction."

"Meaning things can exit, but they can't go in," Felina surmized, recalling the F-16s she'd been forced to engage in Turbokat One. "Then what do you plan on doing then? Starving him out?"

"The Commander doesn't want to wait that long," Lt. Durov said as she began to walk up a steep flight of stairs.

Felina followed along, and soon the two were in the main hangar deck which occupied most of the middle of the ship. Several Chinooks were parked in the corners, their rotors folded to allow for more space. In addition to that were several dozen wheeled missile carts, each one holding three missiles, lined up in rows. Each missile looked to be around 4 meters long, about the size of an AMRAAM. They were painted red, with black highlights. In yellow, a lightning bolt symbol adorned the sides of each.

"I'm not familiar with these…" Felina said as they caught her attention and she approached the nearest one, kneeling down to get a closer look.

"They were among the technology the Commander acquired from the SWAT Kats," Lt. Durov said. "They are called Scrambler Missiles, very unorthodox weapons. And, also the key to the strategy."

"Scrambler Missiles?" Felina said aloud, and then recalled the weapons Turmoil had fired from Turbokat One at the aggressor fighters. "Yeah, I got to see those things in action. Some kind of electrical disruption?"

"Yes," Lt. Durov said. "Each one can generate a 100 megavolt discharge in combination with a short-range electromagnetic burst."

"Good for disabling a vehicle," Felina said as she stood back up. "Or disabling a forcefield."

"Yes," Lt. Durov said. "We estimate that a combined attack using 100 Scrambler Missiles will disable the forcefield, and leave Dark Kat's base vulnerable to conventional attack. We had some initial problems replicating the technology, but after one of our supply teams obtained an ample amount of the latest volt discharge modulators, our production was able to proceed."

_So that's what the burglary at the office park was about._

"Aside from the forcefield, what else is waiting on that island?" Felina asked.

"Our intelligence suggests that Dark Kat has around 100 personnel consisting of a hired mercenary force, including air and ground forces," Lt. Durov said. "In addition to this, we estimate he has 2,000 Creeplings,"

Felina frowned, as memories came flooding back. When Dark Kat had abducted Felina, he'd used a small force of half-a-dozen Creeplings to do it. The creatures had waited in her apartment and ambushed her in the dark. Looking at her with their black, empty eyes and grinning with razor-sharp teeth, they'd bagged and gagged her.

Felina hated them with a passion.

"So, when's the mission start?" Felina asked.

"Tomorrow at 06:00 hours," Lt. Durov said as they ascended steps that led back to the main deck of the _Balikirev_. "These Scrambler Missiles will be loaded on the missile ship before day's end and be the opening salvo of the attack."

There was a slight breeze blowing through the air, and the sound of helicopter rotors thumping in the distance.

"Tomorrow?" Felina asked. "I just got here."

"Additional information has been provided in your cabin," Lt. Durov said. "But the Commander will be providing more details at dinner, as well."

"Thanks," Felina said dryly, and looked upward to see several incoming aircraft.

More Chinook helicopters hovered down and came to a landing on the deck. Felina recognized them as the ones from the private hangar at Megakat International Airport. As they landed, another louder sound streaked above, and Felina saw two more of the Turbokat copies zoom around to come in for a landing. The numbers two and three were visible on their respective stabilizers, both sporting the desert-colored MARPAT-style digital camouflage pattern.

_Looks like everyone's caught up._

"If you have any further questions I'll be on the bridge," Lt. Durov said.

"Appreciate it," Felina replied distractedly, her attention on the newly arrived aircraft, as the lieutenant left her.

The soldiers had begun the process of unloading the supplies from the Chinooks. Their rear loading ramps descended, several pallets with crates stacked atop them being shuttled off.

Turmoil was among them, having changed into the outfit Felina had first seen her in, apparently in full command mode. The cape she wore billowed slightly in the wind as she strode over, interested in the cargo being offloaded.

Felina walked the short distance across the deck, passing by other crew who were busy with their jobs.

"Well, what do you think?" Turmoil asked over her shoulder as Felina approached.

"I think you got a lot of expensive toys," Felina replied as she stood next to her, still wearing the green flight-suit over her clothes. "Something about this cargo that's got your attention?"

"Very much so," Turmoil said, and then called out to members of the crew who were in the process of offloading a crate from the rear of a Chinook. "Just a moment."

The two crew stopped what they were doing and stood aside as Turmoil approached them. The crate was precariously perched at the edge of the ramp, and at risk of falling nearly three-feet onto the deck.

"What is it?" Felina asked, following along.

"Just a hunch," Turmoil said with a smile as she stepped up the ramp, her boots clicking with each step.

Felina wasn't sure what that hunch could be about, and before she had an opportunity to ponder the options, something surprising occurred. Turmoil lifted up a foot and kicked at the crate. It teetered over the edge of the ramp and dropped the short distance, landing hard and loud on its corner.

The crate, a wooden box measuring no more than four feet by four feet, split open at the impact, and spilled its contents. Smaller boxes of MREs now covered the impact zone, but to Felina's surprise, so did an additional unexpected item.

"Ow," Chance Furlong said from amidst the pile as he rubbed the back of his head. He was wearing olive-green cargo pants, military style boots and a tucked-in tan A-shirt, which showed off his muscular arms. He also wore a backwards red baseball cap.

_That stupid hat again._

Two of Turmoil's soldiers brushed past Felina, rifles in hand, and stood on either side of the apparent stowaway, taking aim.

Felina's eyes went wide as realization struck.

_What's he doing here?_

And then she remembered the the note detailing the time and place to be at the airport. She had left it with Chance.

_He followed me._

Felina clenched her fists, feeling upset by the lack of trust. The anger she felt quickly subsided, however, and was replaced with concern, as she looked to Turmoil, who was now hopping off the ramp and walking toward Chance.

Chance groaned, seeing the guns pointed at him, as he rose to his feet and held up his hands in a motion of surrender.

"Looks like you caught me," Chance said, looking at Turmoil.

"Chance," Turmoil said, using a more alluring tone than Felina had ever heard her speak in. "You disappoint me. I expected you to try to reach me much sooner."

"Maybe next time I'll choose overnight shipping," Chance said sarcastically.

Turmoil laughed.

"Well, you've no doubt discovered the scope of my operation by now?" Turmoil asked.

"I've seen enough," Chance said, his eyes narrowing.

From his expression and tone Felina had no doubt he'd seen the Turbokat copies.

"Ah, good," Turmoil said as she reached down to her holster and drew her sidearm, holding it out, the barrel pointed at Chance.

Felina recognized the gun as a Walther P38, its long, thin, naked barrel making it easy to place. It was an oddly appropriate sidearm that seemed to match the deadly elegance that Turmoil had crafted for herself.

At that, Felina's own hand was reflexively starting to reach back for the Glock 36 she was carrying, but she stopped mid-movement, her eyes meeting those of the soldiers standing at either side of Chance. It was a wordless message, but one received loud and clear: don't do it or we'll shoot you.

Felina frowned, and relaxed her hand, returning her attention to Turmoil, whose eyes hadn't left Chance.

"You know, I kind of wish you'd done this earlier," Chance said, staring down the barrel of the gun.

"I know," Turmoil said. "That's why I didn't."

"So, this is how it ends, huh?" Chance asked, his voice sounding oddly calm.

"No, this is the beginning," Turmoil said as she brought back the hammer of the pistol with her gloved thumb. It clicked loudly into place.

"Turmoil-" Felina began, but couldn't finish her sentence, as Turmoil pulled the trigger.

The hammer dropped, but nothing happened. Chance visibly winced, caught by surprise. Felina felt her pulse racing, her mouth hanging open.

Turmoil lowered the gun, and walked right up to Chance, who was still holding his hands up. She grabbed at his chin with her free hand and pulled his face toward hers. Chance's face filled with surprise, but that didn't last long as the two shared an intimate kiss.

Felina wasn't sure what she was watching, and felt more confused by the second.

Turmoil pulled away, and pointed an index finger at him.

"Next time you betray me, there _will_ be a round in the chamber," Turmoil said.

"I don't doubt it," Chance said. "Can I put my hands down now?"

Turmoil glanced at the two soldiers and nodded at them. They lowered their rifles and walked away. Chance relaxed his composure as Turmoil re-holstered her sidearm.

"Okay, what's going on?" Felina asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Chance replied.

"Miss Feral," Turmoil said as she spun around and began to walk away. "Please fill Mr. Furlong in on things, and then make sure the two of you join me for dinner at 18:00 hours."

Felina watched Turmoil walk away, dumbfounded. Herself and Chance were now standing alone on the deck, the operations in the background returning to normal as the crew continued to unload supplies.

"So," Chance said after a few moments passed. "Where are we?"


	13. Chapter 12

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

The clear blue skies turned a fiery orange as the sun hung low on the horizon, casting the surroundings in a beautiful sunset hue. The aircraft resting on the runway of the _Balikirev_ produced long shadows across the deck as operations appeared to be winding down. The smoke rising from Mt. Dragon Li rose into the heavens and looked equally magnificent as crepuscular rays broke around the plume. Cymric Island was truly a sight to behold, which seemed in stark contrast to the events planned to take place.

Felina was leaning on the guardrail of a walkway, looking down at the calm, clear waters of the bay. Several schools of colorful, exotic looking fish meandered below. Chance Furlong was adjacent to her, also leaning on the railing, taking in the sight.

Felina had told him everything she had seen since arriving at the airport. From flying Turbokat One to engaging two of Dark Kat's F-16s. The tour of the ship and the forces Turmoil had at her disposal. She'd done so almost begrudgingly, feeling unhappy with his presence, particularly after Turmoil's unexpected "welcoming."

He'd taken the information distractedly, occasionally acknowledging with a nod every now and then, which did little to alleviate Felina's annoyance.

"So, what was your plan?" Felina asked, turning to face him.

Chance didn't reply, his attention focused on the view.

"Hey!" Felina nearly shouted and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

"Ouch!" Chance exclaimed, jerking back at the impact.

"I asked you a question," Felina said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, I heard you," Chance said as he rubbed his shoulder.

"And?" Felina pressed.

"I don't know, okay?" Chance replied.

"That was really stupid," Felina said and uncrossed her arms, leveling an index finger at him. "Her troops could've shot you dead before you'd gotten your tail in that crate, or dropped you into the ocean, or better yet, Turmoil could've put a 9mm slug in your head!"

Chance frowned, and before Felina knew it, her extended hand was grabbed at the wrist and she was pulled forward, then her torso spun around, her arm twisted behind her back. It was a textbook back arm-lock that Chance had put her in, with enough force to make her back arch.

"And this isn't stupid?" Chance asked, using his free hand to reach under her shirt and take out the Glock 36.

"I'm warning you, let me go," Felina said through gritted teeth, her free arm tense at her side.

"What were you planning on doing with this anyway?" Chance asked, still keeping his grip.

Felina made a noise that was almost a snarl, and lifted her left foot off the ground and brought it back in a sharp kick that connected firmly with Chance's shin.

He yelped in pain, instantly losing his grip on her arm. Now free, she spun around and reached at his left hand, which still held the gun. In a well-practiced motion she grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted it around, placing him in the same back arm-lock he'd just had her in. The force of the grip made him drop the black, polymer firearm, and it clanked to the floor of the walkway with a dull thud.

"Trying to make a point?" Chance asked, pain audible in his voice.

"Not trying," Felina said as she let go of his arm and shoved him away. "Did."

Chance stumbled forward but didn't fall as he turned around, massaging his wrist with his other hand.

Felina reached down and picked up the dropped weapon, taking a moment to re-holster it in the small of her back. For several minutes the two stood there, not making eye contact.

"You know," Chance said, breaking the awkward silence. "Jake says you and I aren't getting along because we're too much alike."

Felina didn't say anything.

"But, I'm not so sure I agree with him," Chance said. "Sure, I have my moments, but you're just like that volcano over there."

Chance pointed at Mt. Dragon Li, several of its ridges now glowing as the light from the sun diminished. Whatever pools of lava it contained at its mouth likely provided the light for the glowing.

"Always huffing and puffing, ready to erupt," Chance said. "I'm sure that's really useful in some circumstances, but it's a really terrible way to go through life."

"Maybe I'm just honest with myself," Felina replied, looking at him. "Instead of just pretending things are okay by hiding behind a mask."

"That's not the same," Chance said.

"Tell me, '_T-Bone_,'" Felina said. "Just why did you stowaway in that box?"

"Well, it wasn't to carry out an impromptu make-out session if that's what you're wondering," Chance said, sounding annoyed.

"I don't know if I believe that," Felina said. "Jake told me you and Turmoil had a relationship. I'm starting to wonder if using the past tense is appropriate."

Chance frowned.

"You think I wanted all of this to happen?" Chance asked. "You think I wanted her to destroy everything Jake and I worked for?"

"Yeah," Felina said. "I do."

He bit his lip, and grabbed at the guardrail, making a fist around it. In an abrupt display of strength he yanked a section of it clean off, the brackets popping loudly. He angrily threw it overboard, the pipe-like section twirling in the air until it splashed below, startling a school of fish just barely visible in the twilight.

Felina raised an eyebrow at the act.

"Maybe you have a point," Chance finally admitted after a few minutes.

Felina sighed, and for reasons she didn't really care to understand, she felt something very uncharacteristic. Sympathy.

"Look, I get it, okay?" Felina said. "I know what it's like have success at your fingertips, only to be met with disappointment, then to be stuck, with the world against you, with no future."

"And once you're at that point, you'd give anything for another opportunity to straighten things out," Chance said, continuing the sentiment.

"Like accepting an invitation from Turmoil," Felina said, citing her own failing.

"Or tailing someone I should've trusted more," Chance said.

Felina smirked.

"'Sometimes, you have to know when to rely on others' is what you told me when we were locked up together," Felina recalled. "Where did that sentiment come from?"

"Well, believe it or not, it's from your uncle," Chance said.

"Oh?" Felina asked. "I never figured he'd be a source of inspiration in your life."

"Well, he isn't really," Chance said. "It all goes back to when Jake and me were in our Sabre and had Dark Kat in our sights. Ready to deliver the finishing blow. But Commander Feral intervened, and ordered us to break-off."

"Why?" Felina asked.

"I don't know, and I'll probably never know," Chance said. "But, that's not the point. I refused to follow the order because I didn't trust him to do the job. I felt that I couldn't rely on him. And while we argued, I lost my bearings. I'm pretty sure he hit us, but I can't prove it, and we careened out of control. Dark Kat escaped. Enforcer Headquarters nearly burned to the ground, and the rest is history."

"It seems to me that you still haven't learned your lesson," Felina said. "Being a vigilante seems to go in stark contrast with your words of wisdom."

"I know," Chance said with a sigh. "It's an ongoing process. But, I'm trying. And, to be fair, it's easier to make note of these things when I see them happening in someone else."

Now it was Felina's turn to sigh, as she knew Chance was referring to herself.

Before she could adequately ponder the comparison, the two were interrupted by footsteps, and both looked to see Lt. Durov approaching them.

"Please make your presence at the Commander's quarters for dinner," Lt. Durov said.

* * *

"The chef has really outdone herself this time," Turmoil said after taking a sip from the decorative bowl in front of her.

Chance and Felina sat at a simple four-sided table, opposite each other, with Turmoil sitting perpendicular to them. A white cloth covered the table, which was covered in the accoutrements one would associate with any of Megakat City's fanciest restaurants.

Turmoil's cabin was a relatively large room, though it was sparsely decorated. The grey, metal bulkheads of the ship were still present. One item had caught Felina's attention. Hanging on an ornate display, a lone dueling sabre rested, its shiny hilt decorated in patterns of silver and gold, and the long, slightly curved blade a pristine mirror that seemed to stab even while motionless.

_Nice sword. Probably custom. _

In a bowl in front of Felina was the same meal Chance was presently devouring, a bowl filled with some kind of soup-like substance, a liquid concoction of reds and yellows with several unknown leaves in it. Chucks of meat could be seen floating intermittently.

Felina, having discarded her flight suit, was feeling a little under dressed in her black T-shirt and jeans, particularly as Turmoil was still decked out in the full regalia of her uniform, though the hat and cape had been removed. Felina wondered if Chance in his A-shirt and cargo pants felt the same, though if he did, he didn't seem to show it.

"Not bad," Chance said, taking a sip from a shiny, silver spoon. "What is it?"

"It's called _Sura Kolambu_," Turmoil said as she reached for an ancient looking champagne bottle on the table, a white towel in hand, and uncorked it. The contents bubbled out of the mouth of the bottle as Turmoil poured three glasses. The powerful scent of the liquor was, for lack of a better word, intoxicating.

"It's a shark curry, bathed in spices and ground seeds," Turmoil said. "The shark was caught fresh this morning, just outside."

"Huh," Chance replied, and took another spoonful of it.

Felina dipped her spoon into the bowl and leaned forward as she brought it to her lips. Her taste buds were instantly assaulted by the mix of flavor and spiciness as she swallowed. Her forehead was growing warm and her voice cracked slightly.

"I'll have some of that," Felina said, grabbing at one of the glasses with the sparking champagne in it, quickly downing all of it.

Turmoil raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"I suppose not everyone is able to appreciate the more exotic tastes," Turmoil said.

"It's not that spicy," Chance said as he finished off his portion. "I've eaten way spicier things."

The champagne worked to cool Felina's mouth, though she wished she hadn't downed so much so quickly, as whatever vintage it was seemed to have a high proof. It was starting to make her head feel like it was spinning.

_Good thing I was already sitting down._

Chance seemed to take note of Felina's condition, and he chuckled.

"Well, if whatever's in that bottle can make _her_ do a double-take, I suppose I should have some too," Chance said as he took a more conservative sip from his glass. "Though, isn't champagne usually served to celebrate something?"

"It is," Turmoil said as she raised her glass up. "To the end of Dark Kat."

Chance's eyes met Felina's with an expression of uncertainty. Felina shrugged and held up her empty glass.

"Sure, why not?" Felina said.

"I can't really disagree with that," Chance said, and held up his glass as well.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or just the setting, but Felina found this whole event incredibly surreal. Here she was, dining with Chance Furlong, the SWAT Kat, and Turmoil, the air terrorist. It was a strange arrangement, and Felina felt like some kind of non sequitur in the midst of it, a third-wheel whose presence wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

"And, you two are going to make it possible," Turmoil said as she took a sip.

"Now, wait a minute," Chance said, setting his glass back down. "You expect me to help you?"

"Isn't that something you've always wanted?" Turmoil asked.

"Yeah, Dark Kat's number one on a lot of lists," Chance said. "But whatever beef you have with him, I don't want any part of."

"My 'beef' as you put it, is the same as yours," Turmoil said. "He's a threat to Megakat City that must be taken care of."

"Since when do you care about Megakat City?" Chance asked. "As I recall, the last time you made a major appearance there, you tried to hold the airspace for ransom."

"A lot's changed since then," Turmoil replied as she leaned back slightly in her seat.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Chance pressed.

Turmoil closed her eyes, as if she were in the process of organizing many thoughts in her head. After a moment, she opened them, and her normally confident expression softened.

"When I was in prison I had a lot of time to reflect on things," Turmoil said. "Most of my thoughts were concerning how you betrayed me, and just what it was I'd do to get my revenge."

Chance remained silent, giving her his full attention. Felina leaned forward in her seat, also taking interest.

"I'd imagined an elaborate escape, complete with an all out assault against you and your partner, and how after I'd defeated you, I'd burn your city to the ground," Turmoil said.

"I'm hoping there's a 'but' coming soon," Chance said.

"But," Turmoil said, doing her best to hide a smirk. "I didn't, because I realized that you did what you did because you had no choice."

Felina saw a look of surprise on Chance's face.

"My ancestors, as Miss Feral here is aware, have always been pirates for as long as history has been recorded," Turmoil said. "We Balikirevs have always been on the opposite side of things. It's afforded us much wealth and power, but it has also isolated us from the rest of the world."

"That's a real nice way of saying looting and plundering," Felina remarked.

Turmoil laughed.

"You don't hold anything back," Turmoil said. "I admire that. Yes, looting and plundering. I take from those who have more than enough to give. Those who have already been spurned by the world find it an inviting cause."

Chance looked like he was starting to get uncomfortable in his seat, and Felina wondered if whatever Turmoil had offered in the past was something that had appealed to the junkyard mechanic who may have felt spurned by the world.

Felina had to admit it was a calling that felt very tempting, too, considering her current circumstances.

"You asked me about my followers all being women," Turmoil said. "Before the Sokoke Union fell, I was a low level NCO in the Spetzkatz. I had worked for years, and proven my abilities to exceed my peers. But, I was denied advancement, due to my family's history, and also because of my gender."

Felina sympathized with the notion, though in her own experience it had been more about family. She also found Turmoil's disclosure of her membership in the elite Spetzkatz very revealing.

_Maybe that's why I followed her here…_

"After the government fell, I chose to embrace the legacy of the Chartreaux Pirates, and be true to my heritage, taking the name Turmoil," Turmoil said. "I decided to give those who had been spurned by the world another opportunity to sail under my colors."

_Wonder what your real name is…_

"The first one I recruited also happened to be my protege," Turmoil said. "Who, I believe, both of you have already met."

Chance frowned as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah, the one with the red beret," Chance said. "I can still feel where she clubbed me with that rifle stock."

"Captain Elizaveta was the first of many women to join my cause," Turmoil said. "As time passed, I found others around the world like her, and as I once told a certain masked hero many years ago, I have yet to find a man to outmatch them."

"Until you met me," Chance said with a small grin.

Felina rolled her eyes at the remark, as she looked to change the subject.

"Yeah, about this Elizaveta," Felina said as she made a fist and punched into her other hand. "I haven't seen her at all around here. We have some unfinished matters to take care of."

"I'm sure you do," Turmoil said with a chuckle. "And, knowing Captain Elizaveta, she will be more than happy to do so."

"So where is she?" Chance asked.

"Unfortunately, she is running a few errands for me," Turmoil said, changing her tone to a more businesslike one. "And she will not be joining us tomorrow."

"Like I was saying earlier, what makes you think I'm gonna help?" Chance asked.

"Miss Feral has already pledged her support," Turmoil said. "Considering the mercy I've shown both you and Mr. Clawson, and the hospitality I've given, I'd assumed you'd be more than willing to help."

"Yeah, effectively destroying the SWAT Kats in a midnight sneak attack isn't what I'd call merciful," Chance said. "Not to mention shooting at us and being really mean about it."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Turmoil asked. "I'd say that makes us even."

Now it was Chance's turn to roll his eyes.

"Chance," Felina said as she reached forward and grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured herself another glass. "If you're scared about going up against Dark Kat, why don't you just say so?"

He shot her an annoyed look.

"I mean, I'd be scared, too, if I'd always failed to finish the job," Felina said as she took a sip.

He slammed his fist down on the table loudly, and then pointed a finger at her, fuming. He was about to say something, but he stopped short, interrupted.

Turmoil was laughing.

Maybe it was the champagne or the ridiculousness of the situation, or both, but Felina couldn't help but be amused, too, and also began to laugh. Chance's expression also changed, and he started laughing.

"You two would make a great couple," Turmoil said in a mocking tone.

Felina and Chance glanced at one another again, and both laughed harder.

_Yeah, when pigs fly…_

"Oh, well, that's enough amusement for one evening," Turmoil said as she stood up. "Lt. Durov has already given you the details, but allow me to provide an update. I will be personally leading the ground assault, and you two will be accompanying me."

"I thought I'd be flying," Chance said, feigning disappointment. "Now I'm really losing interest."

At first Felina had assumed the same thing about herself, but Turmoil had other things in mind. Her Quick Reaction Force training was going to be put to use instead, it seemed.

Though Turmoil leading in-person was news to her.

"Maybe next time," Turmoil said, which made Felina briefly wonder what a "next time" could be.

"In the meantime, get your rest," Turmoil said. "We depart at 06:00 hours."


	14. Chapter 13

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

Felina's cabin was about the size of a jail cell, not unexpected on a naval vessel, but the bunk she had slept in had been comfortable enough. Before falling asleep she had read over the very brief plans provided by Lt. Durov. Falling into a dreamless sleep, she'd awoken at 05:00 hours thanks to a ship-wide _Reveille_ bugle call, causing her to remember the words many recruits at BCT had assigned to the lyric-less tune.

_You've got to get up_  
_You've got to get up_  
_You've got to get up this morning_  
_You've got to get up_  
_You've got to get up_  
_Get up with the bugler's call_

Her head ached, as she felt the aftereffects of the champagne, but she forced herself to roll out of bed and drop to the floor, seeing how many push-ups she could do. She reached 64 and then collapsed on her stomach, out of breath.

"I need to get back to the gym more often," she said out-loud to herself.

Before her demotion, she had been able to do 100 consecutive push-ups every morning, and though she was still in relatively good shape, she wasn't feeling as strong as she did when she'd last helped Callie Briggs.

Felina briefly pondered if it was just a psychological thing as she picked herself up off the floor and walked the short distance across the room. Her cabin thankfully came with a private restroom, a luxury on a ship like this. It included a shower, which allowed her to complete her morning routine. Afterward, she changed into a green, form-fitting, camouflage patterned BDU, complete with combat boots.

She changed into the military attire, and neatly rolled up the sleeves at the elbows. It bore no insignia, and Felina wondered just what role she was going to play in this operation, as the plans didn't have a whole lot of specifics.

It was a precarious situation, requiring Felina to put a lot of trust in someone that in all likelihood couldn't be trusted. It went against all of her better judgement, experience and training. But, despite all of that, here she was.

_I suppose it's just a weird form of reciprocity. She extended trust to me, letting me fly Turbokat One. Trusted me to handle the dogfight. Trusted me on this ship. No armed guards or anything. Didn't even frisk me…_

Felina dug through the pile of clothes she'd changed out of, and withdrew the Glock 36 and the triangular communicator Jake Clawson had given her.

_Didn't even put Chance under guard, though she did point that 9mm at him…_

Felina put the communicator in one of the BDU's pockets, and arranged the concealed holster in the small of her back once more, sliding the sidearm into place.

_Wonder if he got a cabin like this, or maybe…_

Felina recalled the kiss Turmoil had given Chance after threatening his execution, and she forced herself not to finish the thought, for some reason finding the potential topic too weird to contemplate.

It was Monday morning, and millions would be waking up in Megakat City to start the week. On some occasions as a traffic officer, Felina had been given the morning shift, which resembled her evening shift, the only difference being the sun's direction. Had she not been on Sergeant Daniels' forced leave, there was a good likelihood she would be leaning on the handlebars of her parked motorcycle on the shoulder of the 101 Freeway with a bored look on her face right now.

Realizing that now was probably the last time she'd be alone, Felina withdrew the communicator from her pocket, and looked it over. Jake had said the signal was encrypted, but she knew from personal experience that it wasn't uncrackable.

"Might as well," Felina said out loud and pushed the button in its center.

The button illuminated and began to blink. She stared at it and waited. A full minute passed before a static-filled transmission came across the device's speakers.

"This is Razor," a familiar voice crackled through.

"Razor," Felina said, holding the communicator up to her mouth. "It's me."

"I read you, but the signal's a little weak," Razor said. "Where are you?"

"In the middle of the Balinese Sea, just offshore of Cymric Island," Felina said. "And, T-Bone's here, too."

"So, that's where he went," Razor replied with a sigh.

"He didn't tell you?" Felina asked.

"No, but it's not the first time he's done something like this," Razor replied. "Is he with Turmoil?"

"At the moment? Don't know. Probably," Felina said. "But, that's not important right now."

"Well, tell me what is," Razor replied.

"Turmoil's gathered a strike force to attack Dark Kat, who's holed up on the island. She somehow managed to make six copies of the Turbokat, along with hundreds of your Scrambler Missiles to take out the island's forcefield. I'm going to be part of the attack, and so is T-Bone," Felina explained.

There was a pause on the other end, and Felina let the words sink in. After a moment, Razor responded.

"Why?" Razor asked.

"She says she's changed, and it's for the good of Megakat City," Felina said.

"And you believed her?" Razor asked.

"I…I'm not sure," Felina responded with a sigh.

"Does T-Bone believe her?" Razor asked.

"I'm not sure about that either," Felina admitted.

"Just, look…" Razor began, apparently at a loss for words. "Can you make sure he doesn't do something stupid?"

Felina was surprised by the request, and wondered just how serious the relationship between Chance and Turmoil had been.

"Can't make any promises," Felina said. "Look, I need to get going."

"Yeah, me too, someone's banging on the front door. Be careful out there," Razor replied, and she heard him shouting, likely over his shoulder. "We don't open for another hour!"

The signal abruptly cut off, and Felina frowned, now feeling more uncertain about things. She pocketed the communicator and exited the cabin, the smell of freshly cooked food guiding her down the corridor.

Felina arrived at the ship's mess and immediately found her way to the buffet-style tables.

She grabbed a plate and grabbed herself a hardy breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon and some other mushy porridge she didn't recognize, moving about the other crew. None of them made any conversation with her, all seemingly focused on the upcoming task, or just plain ignoring her. Felina wondered if they were scared at all, as they didn't seem to show any emotion, at least not in her presence.

Among the occupied tables, one in particular caught her attention, as its lone occupant stood out from everyone else. Felina made her way over, setting down her plate as she took a seat, sitting across from Chance Furlong.

He was wearing the same style BDU, no insignia on display, his sleeves also rolled up to his elbows, distractedly eating the grey porridge one spoonful at a time. He looked up as she took her seat.

"This stuff any good?" Felina asked as she scooped up some of the porridge and looked it over in the spoon. It looked like grits, but smelled more like oatmeal.

"It's called _kasha_," Chance said. "And it's okay."

Felina took a spoonful, tasted it, swallowed, and shrugged.

"Beats an MRE," she said and ate another spoonful.

They ate their breakfast in silence for a few moments before Felina spoke up again.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

"Does what bother me?" Chance returned.

"The fact that Turmoil," Felina said, pausing as she ate a helping of scrambled eggs. "Knows who you really are? And for that matter, everyone else here?"

"That thought had crossed my mind," Chance replied, and reached over to Felina's plate and took a piece of bacon.

"Stop takin' my bacon," Felina replied, her mouth full.

"No way," Chance said and took a bite of it. "I'm not going to skimp on what may be my last meal."

"Then get your own," Felina said as she pulled her plate farther away from him.

The meal was surprisingly amiable, which dampened the concerns building in the back of Felina's mind. Though Chance had made the comment in jest, it was something that had crossed her mind as well.

_This could be my last meal, too._

She shrugged off the notion. Pre-mission jitters were something everyone had, but over the years she had grown numb to them. Not completely, but enough that it didn't bother her. It wasn't that she was indifferent to whether she lived or died, but that she wasn't going to worry about it.

_If it happens, it happens._

By Chance's demeanor she could tell that he probably felt the same way.

"You wishing you had that Glovatrix of yours about now?" Felina asked as she finished off her bowl.

"I would be," Chance said, and then reached down under his seat and produced the aforementioned item and dropped it down on the table.

"Where'd you get that?" Felina asked.

"Turmoil gave it to me last night," Chance replied.

"She trusted you with that?" Felina said, surprised.

"Apparently," Chance said as he put the SWAT Kats's trademark weapon on like a gauntlet over his right forearm. "She had these leftover from her raid. Said her troops didn't have enough time to familiarize themselves with 'em. Not surprising. Took me months of practice to understand Jake's designs."

"You could've done a lot of damage with that," Felina commented. "Maybe even escaped."

"Yeah, maybe," Chance said.

"But, you didn't," Felina said.

"Neither did you," Chance pointed out. "Also, Turmoil said you should pick up something other than your .45 for the mission."

Felina frowned, feeling both displeased and impressed that Turmoil knew about the concealed weapon.

"I guess she's smarter than both of us," Felina said.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Chance said.

A klaxon blared once over the public address system's speakers, and the voice of Lt. Durov came across it, though she spoke in the native tongue Felina had heard used on the bridge. The other crew and soldiers in the mess stopped what they were doing and began exiting the room.

"I guess it's time," Chance said as he stood up.

Felina did the same, taking one last piece of bacon off her plate. She bit into it, feeling the fatty, greasy flavor encompass her taste buds.

_Could do worse for a last meal…_

* * *

Turmoil's forces were on full display as the flight deck of the Balikirev became a staging ground for war. Soldiers also wearing their BDUs along with other assorted combat gear were lined up on deck. They were being issued rifles one-by-one, and then stopping by other open crates to retrieve magazines and other supplies, putting them in pockets and holsters.

The sun had risen just as beautifully as it had set the night before, lighting the puffing Mt. Dragon Li. The volcano was an ominous presence that seemed to be looking upon the forces in Cymric Island's bay with disdain. The air was calm, and the waters the ships rested in appeared undisturbed, like a pane of glass.

Felina was in line among them, having already grabbed an empty tan colored tactical vest that now hugged her shoulders and midsection. She reached the crewman handing out the weapons, and took what was handed to her: a black AK-74 rifle with a synthetic stock and leather sling.

"Thanks," Felina said, holding the weapon in a safe position as she moved down the line.

Chance was behind her, and the crewman attempted to hand a similar weapon to him.

"No thanks," Chance said as held up his Glovatrix hand and pointed at it. "Got everything I need right here."

"You don't even want a backup?" Felina asked as she reached into an open crate that others seemed to be passing by, withdrawing a bayonet.

"It's really not my style," Chance said.

"Could've fooled me back in the _Felidae Ergs_," Felina said as she slid the blade into a holster on the tactical vest. As concealment was no longer an issue, she took a moment to do the same with the Glock 36.

_At least I won't die uncomfortable. _

"That was different," Chance said as he reached into a crate and withdrew a half-dozen loaded 30-round magazines, and handed them to Felina one-at-a-time. She took each one and inserted them into pouches on her vest, feeling the added weight she was now carrying. The last one she inserted into the magwell of the rifle. It clicked into place.

"I don't see how," Felina remarked.

"I don't pick up a gun unless there's no other choice," Chance said, and before he could offer any more details he was interrupted as the soldiers abruptly faced the same direction and stood at attention.

Felina took a more casual stance, and leaned the rifle on her shoulder, one hand on her hip, a look of indifference on her face. Chance seemed to take a similar tact, crossing his arms.

Turmoil was approaching. She wore a similar BDU, with no tactical vest, but wore a belt that hung just slightly askew on her hip, emphasizing her figure. A sidearm holster hung from that belt, likely containing the Walther P38, along with a new item on the opposite side. A scabbard containing a sword, the familiar hilt of which Felina had seen the previous evening. No cape, but the peaked commander's cap was still a part of the ensemble.

"At ease, and return to your duties" Turmoil said after returning the salute.

The women soldiers completed what they were doing and began walking up the ramps of four Chinook helicopters that rested nearby. Felina estimated about 100 soldiers total, 25 heading into each craft.

Turmoil hadn't followed them. With Chance and Felina, they were the only three remaining behind.

"While you are not officially under my command, as neither of you have sworn an oath to the cause," Turmoil said. "I'd like to make it clear that I expect neither of you to go against my plans here today."

"Sure," Felina said.

Chance looked hesitant, but nodded anyway.

"Good," Turmoil said. "As a token of my appreciation, I thought you should have this."

Turmoil extended her hand, and held out an item to Chance. He glanced at it, and after a moment, took it from her. It was a black bandanna. Chance pulled it over the top of his head, revealing two eye holes already in place with white lenses that that gave him an almost otherworldly look. It was the mask of the SWAT Kats. Felina could see by the change in his posture that Chance Furlong was no longer among them.

He was T-Bone.

* * *

Two inward facing rows of seats lined the interior of the Chinook. Felina was at the end of the row, closest to the cockpit, opposite T-Bone, with one of Turmoil's nameless soldiers to her left. She felt the thumps in her chest from the helicopter's double rotors. The vibrations shaking her spine were a familiar feeling. Helicopters were not entirely foreign to her, as she'd had to qualify for them once she was assigned to the Enforcers in Megakat City. Those retrofitted Mi-4s were nothing like this, however, as the Chinook was much louder and less comfortable feeling, though Felina assumed it had more to do with the fact she was a passenger and not the pilot.

They were in the air and underway, on approach toward the island.

Turmoil was not sitting, and held a handle on the interior's low ceiling with one hand to keep herself steady. She called out orders loudly into a radio she held with the other, receiving the reports back in an earpiece.

"Squadron is up," Turmoil called in. "Commence initial operation."

Even with the noise of the Chinook, Felina could hear the familiar screech of jet engines, followed by an extra vibration. She craned her neck to look out one of the few circular windows that lined the sides of the helicopter. Her glance came just in time, and she was able to see the tan colored Turbokats streak past, with several dozen missile contrails shooting out from them.

The attack was underway.

Turmoil was facing forward, able to see the view afforded by the cockpit's windows, and she called in again.

"Launch supporting barrage," she called.

This part of the plan Felina was familiar with. Apparently Dark Kat had a collection of MIM-104 Patriot missiles, loaded aboard mobile tactical truck platforms hidden throughout the island's jungle. Dark Kat's defenses would have been capable of shooting down most, if not all, of the incoming Scramblers. But, the Turbokats, with their stealthy composition, couldn't be adequately tracked by the platform's radar, and could launch the Scramblers too close for them to react. The ensuing electro-magnetic interference when the Scramblers hit the forcefield would disrupt the platform's targeting system, allowing the primary barrage from the missile ship to commence undeterred. After the barrage, the ground forces Felina was now a part of would land a safe distance from the primary compound and make their way through the jungle to finish the attack.

That barrage was now in progress, and Felina couldn't help but be amazed as the portion of the sky visible to her filled with hundreds of fiery streaks that whizzed past. Though she couldn't see it directly, the interior of the Chinook filled with a strobe of colors, followed by several of the running lights blinking on and off.

Felina briefly worried that the helicopter might've been too close to the discharge, but those worries subsided as everything seemed to return to normal.

"Balikirev, confirm?" Turmoil said, and a moment passed, followed by a smile.

Felina knew by that look the attack was a success, and her eyes met with T-Bone's.

"That was the easy part," T-Bone muttered.

"No doubt," Felina replied, and checked over the rifle she had resting between her legs.

While not her preferred choice, in the past she found the AK-74 was still an adequate weapon, having handled it during a brief segment of her QRF training focused on becoming familiar with enemy weapons. If memory served her correctly, it used a smaller, intermediate cartridge in 5.45x39mm, which was somewhat similar to the 5.56 used in the Enforcers' M16s and M4 carbines. At least more similar than the larger 7.62x39mm used in the older AK-47s.

She considered it a less precise weapon, though its ruggedness and simplicity of operation made up for that.

"The attack was a success," Turmoil said as she turned around to face the passengers. "Ready your weapons and prepare for rapid deployment!"

A series of metallic clicks filled the inside of the Chinook, as each soldier racked the charging handles of their weapons, loading rounds into chambers. Felina did the same, making sure to switch the fire selector to the safe position, keeping in mind that with this particular weapon the semi-auto and full-auto positions were reversed. That particular tidbit was something she had forgotten in her last encounter with Dark Kat.

_Not going to make that mistake again._

T-Bone had his arms crossed, a look of disdain on his face. What Felina wasn't sure was who the expression was in reaction to. Was he feeling that way toward herself? Toward Turmoil? Maybe toward himself? Felina didn't know, and didn't have the opportunity to inquire, as she felt her stomach lurch. The Chinook was angling downward and rapidly descending.

Despite the circumstances, the adrenaline was starting to pump through Felina's veins. It was a nervous excitement, and she tapped her foot impatiently, feeling like a sardine in this tin can.

_What if all the SAMs aren't disabled? It'd only take one lucky shot to blow this thing, and everyone in it, out of the sky…_

The ramp at the rear of the helicopter opened, allowing the bright sunlight inside. Outside, the jungle canopy was racing by, until it broke away, revealing a grass-filled clearing. The Chinook lowered just a little more until the ramp just barely touched the ground, coming to a hovering stop.

The troops got up from their seats, and in an orderly quickness exited the helicopter. Felina and T-Bone got up as well, following less quickly behind them, stepping onto the ground at the same time, keeping their heads low as the double-blades of the Chinook caused a small maelstrom to surround the landing site. Turmoil was right behind them, and as the three made their way away from the helicopter, it rose into the sky.

_A textbook rapid deployment._

As the sounds of the rotors diminished, the area filled with an odd quiet. The 25 troops had established a perimeter, keeping their attention, and guns, pointed outwards.

The clearing appeared peaceful; the bright green grass reminded her of the meadows occasionally found between the mountain ranges far to the east of Megakat City. At the edges, about 200 or so meters away, was the edge of the jungle, where the peak of Mt. Dragon Li poked out of the canopy, looking closer and more ominous than ever, the smoke still puffing out of its top.

It was a short distance away, maybe a few hours trek on foot. It was their destination, Felina knew. Dark Kat's base of operations was there. The quietness was interrupted by the roar of several jet engines, and she glanced up just in time to see three of the Turbokats flying by lowly, just above the treetops. They zoomed at the volcano, and she felt just as much as heard the explosions in the distance.

More smoke rose, but this time from lower, near the base of the volcano. The Turbokats' second objective, once the forcefield was down, was to soften up the base with an airstrike. Whatever remaining hard targets Dark Kat had would have been destroyed, just now. No more air force, no more missile defenses. No more radar.

Even if Dark Kat had managed to hide an aircraft and successfully take off, the Turbokats would still be on patrol, able to intercept and prevent an escape.

There was nowhere to run.

Felina gripped the rifle close, feeling an anticipation that made her grow anxious.

"Sure you didn't kill him with all of that?" T-Bone asked, taking in the sight.

"He's alive," Turmoil said, and then called out to one of the troops. "Sergeant! We're moving forward. Keep an eye out for Creeplings. And remember, I want him taken alive."

"Aye aye," the female sergeant responded, and the group of soldiers began to advance forward, heading to the edge of the jungle.

"Remind me again why you need our help?" T-Bone said as he followed along in a more casual stride.

Turmoil smiled, not answering.

Felina frowned, following along as well, each boot step feeling soft in the clearing's grass, getting closer to the jungle by the second.

It was an eerie and foreboding presence, and for some reason it chipped just a little bit of Felina's gung-ho feelings away. Something about it wasn't right, and the doubts she had been experiencing started to resurface once again.

_What am I doing here?_

It was a question she had yet to answer, and as the jungle swallowed up the troops, T-Bone, Turmoil and now herself, she wondered if this island in the middle of an empty sea was going to be her final resting place.

She shrugged off the idea.

_If it happens, it happens. No going back now._


	15. Chapter 14

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 14**

As far as jungles went, Felina imagined things could have been worse. The foliage wasn't so dense that it required a machete to get through, nor the canopy so overgrown that it blocked out the sun. Had the circumstances been different, being here on Cyrmic Island may have been pleasant. The shade the trees provided helped keep the sun at bay, and for a tropical area the humidity felt reasonable.

Brightly colored flowers could be seen blooming in patches here and there. She didn't know if it was naturally this way or a result of the earlier explosions, but there were no sounds of wildlife. The only thing Felina could hear was the occasional rustle of a branch, bush or leaf cluster when one of Turmoil's troops pushed though.

If it wasn't for the various small gnat-like insects hovering around her, she would have considered it a paradise.

Elsewhere on the island, Felina knew the other three teams of Turmoil's forces were dispatched to mop-up whatever the missile attack and airstrike might have missed. They'd no doubt be dropping det-packs into weapons platforms, chasing down any mercenary forces that hadn't abandoned their posts, or using Creeplings for target practice. It was the team Felina was in, the one being personally led by Turmoil herself, that was going after the main objective: Dark Kat.

Up ahead, in an unseen bunker that was no doubt a smoldering ruin after the Turbokats attacked, was the man of the hour.

_At least that's what Turmoil thinks…_

If Felina were to judge this entire operation objectively, it would be generous to only call it unorthodox. From her perspective, everything seemed a little bit too fast and loose. Not a lot of planning or practice. A lot of things could go wrong, and not a whole lot of contingencies prepared should they. But then again, Felina imagined that despite Turmoil's invitation, she was still an outsider, not privy to all of the details.

Felina still had no idea how it was Turmoil had a small fleet of modern naval warships at her disposal. Also, despite Turmoil's explanation about how her followers sympathized with the cause, Felina found it strange that she had so many under her command, not to mention the fact that all of them were women.

And again, there was doubt about Turmoil's motives. No doubt helped along by the skepticism that T-Bone had expressed over the surreal meal of the previous evening. Felina had a hunch that she'd never get the answers to those questions.

"Are we there yet?" T-Bone asked, feigning a childish impatience.

Felina smirked, on the verge of asking the same question herself. She had no means of telling time, and estimated they'd been walking for almost an hour, with nothing but the greenery of the jungle in every direction. It was unsettling to realize there was only about 50 meters of good visibility.

"Soon," Turmoil replied cooly.

"How soon?" T-Bone continued.

"If you're so impatient why don't you go and take point?" Felina chimed in, gesturing to the front of the group. Turmoil's soldiers had roughly dispersed into ten rows of interspersed groups, each one with their AK-74s at the ready, looking in all directions as they moved forward at a cautious, but steady pace.

"That's not a bad idea," T-Bone replied, and then followed up sarcastically. "If her ladyship will permit it?"

Turmoil raised an eyebrow at the remark, and extended her hand in a gesture of approval.

"Be my guest," Turmoil replied.

"I'll join you," Felina said, not bothering to ask for permission.

The two walked together at a quicker pace, passing between the groups of soldiers until they were in the lead. The foliage had grown thicker, and Felina had to push through vegetation, snapping through a weak vine as she did so.

"Here," T-Bone said, and held up his Glovatrix.

Three long blades jutted out from the barrels of the device, and he used them like a machete as he chopped at the minimal obstructions, clearing the way forward.

"What else you got in that thing?" Felina asked, following behind him.

"All kinds of toys," T-Bone said as he completed another chop.

Felina glanced over her shoulder, deciding they were far enough ahead that their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"So, what do you think?" Felina asked.

"I think I should've packed some bug-spray," T-Bone said as he swatted at the back of his neck.

"You know what I mean," Felina said.

He slashed at some more vegetation.

"Well, we're not dead," T-Bone said. "That's always a good sign."

Felina sighed, and decided to change the subject.

"You remember that time you offered to buy me a drink?" Felina asked.

"Yeah," T-Bone said. "Back at Shenanigans?"

"Why didn't you just come out and say what you were doing?" Felina asked, referring to Chance's undercover investigation of the traitor Captain Ritz.

He glanced back over his shoulder at her, and shrugged.

"I dunno, probably because I thought you wouldn't believe me," T-Bone said. "I mean, what would you have thought if some 'wash out,' as you put it, told you your boss was probably working for Dark Kat?"

"I'd have at least heard you out," Felina replied. "It's not like I was on Ritz's good side, anyway."

"Well, next time I'll let you know," T-Bone said.

"It's just," Felina said, and began to wonder why she was even talking at this point. "I don't like being misled."

He paused mid-slash, and relaxed his stance, turning around to face her.

"You know, I can make all kinds of excuses about the whole secret identity thing," he said, realization in his voice. "But you're right. Jake and I have had our eyes on you for a long time. I should've been able to trust you, back then. I'm sorry I didn't. And, I'm sorry I lied to you."

The words were sincere, and they came from Chance Furlong, not the masked caricature he'd created for himself. The misgivings, uncertainty and anger she'd felt toward him that had culminated in the SWAT Kats' hangar diminished. It wasn't completely gone, but the tension she felt around him eased.

"I-," Felina began, but didn't get to finish the sentence, as T-Bone disappeared from sight, the last thing she saw were his feet as they ascended above her.

"Gah, get off!" T-Bone was shouting from above as he was pulled upwards into the trees.

The jungle was no longer quiet, as familiar chittering noises came from all around.

_Creeplings._

T-Bone had been attacked from above by at least a half dozen of them, using their talons latched to his shoulders and arms in a combined effort to fly him upwards. He was struggling in their grasp.

Felina heard another shout of surprise behind her, and then to the left, as Turmoil's soldiers were picked up in a similar fashion. Automatic gunfire rang out, the nearby area awash in muzzle flashes. Felina brought her own rifle up, tucking the stock into her shoulder, her eyes wide as she scanned the surroundings. The trees were alive, filled with moving, gremlin-shaped silhouettes.

_There's got to be a hundred of these things._

She took aim and opened fire, letting out three quick bursts. The gunfire rang in her ears as the recoil kicked into her shoulder. The trees screamed in return, an animalistic screech conveying pain. Several of the pink creatures dropped down and nearly landed on her head. She looked down at them, to see their black eyes open in an emotionless gaze. Dead.

Another, larger thing also fell from the sky, landing in a less-than-graceful fashion. Out of reflex Felina took aim at it, stopping just short of pulling the trigger. It was T-Bone.

"I hate those things!" he shouted.

The top of his BDU was torn to shreds, revealing several bleeding cuts. He tore what was left of the jacket off himself, tossing it away. He then raised his Glovatrix and pointed upwards, shooting several projectiles in the air.

Felina watched as the items flew toward the troops still caught in the air by the Creeplings. The projectiles exploded in a harmless flash-bang of smoke and light. It was enough to disorient the creatures, and they dropped their victims. Each of Turmoil's caught soldiers fell a short distance back to the jungle floor.

"Suppressive fire!" Turmoil shouted from behind.

The unhindered troops responded and began to unload a steady stream of hot lead into the canopy. The Creeplings swarmed out of the trees in a bat-like cloud and began to circle the soldiers. Several of them fell from the group as they were shot, but the swarm did not relent.

_What are they doing? It's almost like they're trying to distract us…_

Before Felina could finish the thought, she saw it. Other Creeplings had approached on foot, just within view, and they were carrying belts of ammunition, along with something else they were mounting to a tripod.

"Oh no," Felina said, and shouted out. "Hit the dirt!"

Felina followed her own advice, hugging the damp jungle floor, seeing T-Bone doing the same. The place her torso had been a second earlier filled with bright streaks of tracer fire that made short work of the tree behind her.

The Creepling swarm dispersed, moving out of the path of destruction the .50 caliber M2 Browning machine gun they had erected was creating. Felina heard several shouts coming from behind her, and briefly wondered just how many soldiers had been caught in the gunfire.

"We need to take out that gun!" T-Bone shouted next to her, the sound of bullets whizzing past just inches overhead.

"No kidding!" Felina replied, and began to crawl army-style toward the direction of the automatic fire, feeling thankful for the foliage providing at least some visual cover. She recalled the shouts of the drill instructors from BCT as she advanced a foot at a time.

_"Keep your head low!" the DI had said._

The gunfire continued, its report deafening.

_Takka takka takka takka takka…_

Felina crawled closer.

_Takka takka takka takka takka…_

T-Bone moved along.

_Takka takka takka takka takka…_

Felina could see the muzzle flashes now, even though the foliage. They were almost on top of them.

"Stay behind me!" T-Bone shouted, and then lifted up his Glovatrix. Like magic its faceplate split open and telescoped outward, extending and unfolding into a large metal dish, and he positioned it like some kind of medieval shield. He stood up and rushed forward.

_He's crazy! He's gonna get himself killed…_

To Felina's surprise, he continued rushing forward, directly into the machine gun's line of fire. The shield he'd deployed was deflecting the rounds, and they ricocheted harmlessly off.

She quickly got up and charged after him, staying in the shadow of safety he'd created.

"Enough!" T-Bone shouted as he drove the shield forward like a defensive linebacker stopping the offense's play dead in its tracks. He brushed past the barrel of the gun and into the Creeplings operating it, scattering them like bowling pins. Not all were hit, however, as some tried to flank him from both sides.

Felina saw this, and hit one in its snout with the stock of her AK-74, breaking its face as she brought the weapon to bear and shot two others.

T-Bone had retracted the shield by now and aimed his Glovatrix into the trees, shooting what looked to be a 40mm grenade that exploded above and caused a large tree branch to collapse down and crush another group of advancing Creeplings.

Above, the initial swarm that had ambushed the group was starting to reform.

"Hold this!" Felina said as she tossed her rifle at T-Bone.

He caught it clumsily, a confused look on his face.

Felina jumped over to the now unused Browning, and swung the gun around on its tripod, the belt dragging, making it resist the movement. But it didn't stop her as she lined up the weapon and pulled the V-shaped butterfly double-trigger, her thumbs pressed down hard.

_Takka takka takka takka takka…_

The barrel spewed hot fire, and Felina could feel the vibration from the recoil going deep into her arms. She muscled the weapon in an arc, aiming upwards, the long belt of .50 caliber cartridges feeding into the weapon, the spent shells ejecting out into a hot, smokey pile at her feet.

_Takka takka takka takka takka…_

Creepling after creepling was turned into a pink mist as branches of the canopy exploded into splinters, several of the creatures falling out of the sky, large swathes of the swarm cut down like a painter's stroke on a canvas. It was a turkey shoot, and Felina yelled, expelling her anger and fear in an overdose of adrenaline.

The weapon's action clicked back, the belt of ammunition expended, the barrel smoking just as badly as Mt. Dragon Li in the distance.

There was no more noise, only the sound of deep inhalation and exhalation. Felina realized it was her making that noise, and she realized her thumbs were still locked in place. She forced herself to let go. Her hands were shaking.

"You okay?" asked T-Bone, who'd apparently been standing off to the side, observing the outburst.

"Yeah," Felina said, not sure if that was true. "You?"

"Yeah," T-Bone replied, watching his step, avoiding several Creepling carcasses.

He handed her the AK-74 back, and she took it.

"Very nicely done," a voice broke the silence, causing both Felina and T-Bone to jump and take aim.

"At ease, you two," Turmoil said, emerging from the vegetation, unfazed by their reaction.

Felina relaxed somewhat, and slung the rifle over her shoulder, finding herself wishing she could get a drink.

Turmoil approached the nearest dead Creepling, knelt down, and curiously poked at it with a gloved finger. It remained motionless.

"How many did they get?" T-Bone asked.

Turmoil looked up.

"The sergeant is assessing the damage, but from what I could see, no one was killed, thanks to your warning," Turmoil said as she stood back up. "And your reaction."

Felina glanced over to see that Turmoil was looking at her. In the background, the troops were collecting themselves, the sergeant in question going among the soldiers checking for injuries. The collective mood appeared to be one of relief.

Felina, however, wasn't feeling so upbeat.

"Dark Kat has to know we're here, on the ground, about to knock on his front door," Felina said.

"I agree," T-Bone said, crossing his arms.

"I have no doubt," Turmoil replied as she started to walk forward, ascending up a small slope.

T-Bone followed along, as did Felina.

"So you have to know that if we keep on going like this, we're just going to walk into another ambush," Felina said. The slope eventually leveled out, and as it did they surprisingly reached the edge of the jungle. Beyond it was a clearing, an obviously artificial one as the trees and vegetation had been cut back.

They were at the foot of Mt. Dragon Li, and it was not unoccupied.

Craters and the still smoldering ruins of military equipment lined the several hundred acre area. What looked to be the remains of T-90 battle tanks sat in front of a partially collapsed concrete building, which was adjacent to an airstrip. Pieces of F-16 fighters could be seen strewn about as small fires burned in places. Abandoned barriers made from sandbags could be seen around the perimeter, several of them blown up and charcoaled.

Felina imaged it had been quite an impressive and intimidating looking facility just hours prior, but thanks to the airstrike from Turmoil's Turbokats, it had been reduced to shambles.

"Perhaps," Turmoil said. "Or, we could be walking into victory."

* * *

"Clear!" Turmoil's sergeant said as she jammed a thermite grenade into the action of the M2 Browning. The grenade ignited and several sparks shot outward as the weapon that had been used by the Creeplings to almost kill everyone began to glow red and melt, becoming a useless hunk of steel.

Felina watched it, thinking about just how close she'd come to having one of those .50 caliber rounds end her life just ten minutes earlier.

_If I'd been half-a-second slower to take cover, it'd be me lying dead here, and not this thing._

She kicked at one of the dead Creeplings with her boot. Seeing them up up close didn't make her feel any more amiable toward them. In fact, seeing their scaly, leathery exterior reminded her of the mythical creatures of the underworld that would often be the topic of scary stories told around the campfire.

_Maybe not so mythical after all…_

Turmoil, T-Bone and herself had walked back down from the slope that led up to the ruins of Dark Kat's compound, with Turmoil taking inventory of her force's progress.

Turmoil's soldiers had taken some casualties, mostly from the Creeplings's initial attack. Half had suffered broken bones, lacerations and bites. Turmoil had ordered them taken back to the drop off point, which required the other half to coordinate the move.

"So, that doesn't really leave a whole lot of us left," Felina said. "You going to abort the advance, or wait for reinforcements?"

"Neither," Turmoil said, and then she spoke into her radio, using that same foreign language Felina didn't recognize. A response came back in-kind, and then she approached the sergeant.

"Sergeant, fall back with the injured to the landing point. Once they're aboard the LCAC converge with Delta Platoon and assist them with their objectives," Turmoil ordered.

_LCAC? Didn't see one of those…_

Felina knew LCAC stood for Landing Craft Air Cushion, a common acronym used for military hovercraft. They were used to rapidly transport anything from tanks, Humvees and soldiers from a ship right onto shore. The well deck, an internal bay exposed to the ocean toward the rear and underneath a _Wasp_ class carrier was built specifically for them. In hindsight, Felina realized it was a part of the ship she hadn't seen during Lt. Durov's tour. On typical invasion-style missions, the LCAC would be front and center. But, this one had apparently been launched afterward.

_Wonder what it was carrying…_

The sergeant seemed hesitant, which was the first time Felina had seen any of Turmoil's forces seem so.

"Commander, what about you?" the sergeant asked.

"The objective is at hand, and I don't intend to stop now," Turmoil said, and then gestured to T-Bone who'd been standing off to the side in quiet contemplation. "We three will conduct the next objective."

T-Bone frowned.

"Your pilots did a great job softening up the place, but if you intend to properly clear it we're going to need more than just three people," T-Bone said.

"I'd have to agree," Felina said. "Who knows what could be holed up in there. We could be walking right into a trap."

Turmoil smiled and placed a hand on Felina's shoulder, in a motion of what was probably intended to be reassuring, but Felina found to be slightly worrying.

"I trust your abilities," Turmoil said, and then walked forward, heading back up the slope, speaking over her shoulder. "Carry out your orders, sergeant."

"Aye aye," the sergeant said, and walked away.

T-Bone sighed and he followed after Turmoil.

Felina followed along, and unslung the AK-74, keeping it at the ready.


	16. Chapter 15

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

_This is so stupid…_

The trio walked across the bombed-out surroundings of the base, passing by the charred remains of vehicles, anti-aircraft weapons platforms, jeeps and other unidentifiable items. To her surprise, there were no bodies to be found, which made Felina wonder if Dark Kat's mercenary forces had cut and run once the forcefield went down. It seemed likely, especially when Turmoil's month-long interdiction was taken into account. Who knew what being under siege that long did to one's morale.

Felina kept the rifle's stock tucked into her shoulder as she took point. She looked at the world through the weapon's iron sights, sweeping the barrel left and right, looking to spot trouble before it spotted her. Thus far, there was none to be found, as she took one cautious step forward after another.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see T-Bone doing similar with his Glovatrix. Behind, Turmoil followed along at a more relaxed pace. It was a walk filled with poise and confidence that Felina found to be bordering on reckless.

"You know, there could be a marksman hiding in the bushes along the perimeter, or behind that debris over there," Feina said out of the corner of her mouth.

"There could," Turmoil said. "But there isn't."

"Mind sharing how it is you know that?" T-Bone asked as he transitioned to walk backwards, checking for enemies from behind, Glovatrix at the ready.

"Because that's not the way it works," Turmoil said.

"No offense, but Dark Kat doesn't strike me as the type to adhere to war conventions," Felina said.

Turmoil did not reply, offering only a small smile in return.

They had reached the airstrip, and Felina rushed up to a burnt jeep, and took a knee near what would have been the fender, leaned around the edge, taking aim.

"Clear," she said, after taking in the unpopulated surroundings. Up ahead was an aircraft hangar. The ceiling looked partially collapsed, and large girders and I-beams stuck out from the large entrance.

Turmoil walked past Felina, not bothering to take cover, her boots clacking on the pavement of the runway as she did not hesitate to walk toward the looming structure.

Felina sighed, and stood up, following along on her right side. T-Bone caught up and walked on her left side. In tandem they approached the hangar, and soon arrived at its mouth.

From this new vantage, Felina could see the destruction wrought to the building. Several parked F16s were crushed by parts of the ceiling, and other sections of the floor were cratered by what looked to be secondary explosions. None of the lights appeared to be functioning, and the rays that came down through what was left of the ceiling cast everything in an eery glow as darkness and light competed with no clear winner.

Sitting in that border of transitional light, atop a makeshift throne of ammunition boxes, his familiar black robes torn in places, a bandage wrapped around his head that partially covered his left eye, was the most wanted individual in Megakat City. Like a judge sitting at his podium, he glanced down at the approaching trio, his demon-like face and purple features filled with an expression of indifference. A black cane rested at his side, tipped with an ornate rhinestone that glimmered a rainbow of colors.

Felina's fist tightened around the pistol-grip of the AK-74, and she brought the weapon up, taking aim. Beside her, T-Bone did the same with his Glovatrix.

"What interesting friends you've made, Turmoil," Dark Kat said, his baritone voice filled with gravitas. In the half-moon of the weapon's irons sights, Dark Kat did not appear the least bit concerned, and Felina frowned.

The last time she had been face-to-face with the criminal mastermind, it had been when he'd kidnapped her, imprisoned her, threatened to kill her superiors, including her uncle and the deputy mayor, and also threatened to kill her as well. They were not fond memories, and it was taking Felina every ounce of restraint she had not to pull the trigger.

"Your endearing personality has a way of pulling your enemies together," Turmoil said as she placed a hand gently on the barrel of Felina's rifle.

With much reluctance, Felina lowered the rifle.

"Dark Kat, you're under arrest," Felina said.

He smiled, and remained seated.

"Cymric Island is well outside the jurisdiction of Megakat City's Enforcers, Lieutenant Feral," Dark Kat said.

Felina's irritation at hearing her former rank mentioned was likely easy to see.

"Well you're not outside of mine," T-Bone said as he walked forward, keeping the Glovatrix aimed. "On your feet, hands in the air!"

Dark Kat sighed, and stood, stepping down from his perch, keeping both hands in the air. He was a menacing presence, standing at least a foot taller than Felina and T-Bone.

"Search him," Turmoil said.

Felina slung the rifle over her shoulder and approached Dark Kat.

"It's a good look for you, SWAT Kat," Dark Kat said, talking at T-Bone as Felina began the process of frisking him for weapons. "Being at the beck and call of her. I even like the uniform."

"I'm not at anyone's beck and call," T-Bone said through gritted teeth. "Just here to make sure you wind up behind bars."

_Now there's a sentiment I can agree with._

Felina continued her search and stopped as she reached a hidden pocket on his left sleeve. There was an object inside of it. Dark Kat's attention remained forward as Felina carefully withdrew it, her eyes narrowing as she saw what it was.

In her hand she held a rectangular remote control that had a numbered keypad and a small digital display. On the display, numbers were counting down. They had just reached 15 minutes, and now read 14:59.

_It's a countdown._

"It would seem you've discovered my secret," Dark Kat said as Felina held up the remote control for Turmoil to see. "I've prepared for this outcome in advance. Within Mt. Dragon Li I've placed a series of detonators outside the primary magma chamber. When they explode in sequence it will trigger an artificial eruption that will destroy this island and all who are unfortunate enough to still be on it."

"Then in fifteen minutes you'll be wiped out, too," T-Bone said as he walked forward and grabbed Dark Kat by the collar with both hands, looking up at him. "So why don't you do yourself a favor and shut it off?"

Dark Kat laughed.

"I've already told you once, SWAT Kat, that if I lose, everyone loses," he said with a hint of glee. "Though this attack has been bold and well-executed, I will have the last laugh."

T-Bone tightened his grip, appearing on the verge of using violence. Felina was considering dong something similar, but her thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected sound. Clapping.

It was coming from Turmoil.

"Very good," Turmoil said amid her one-woman applause. "You do not disappoint."

T-Bone released his grasp harshly and stepped aside as Turmoil approached.

"Relax, Dark Kat," Turmoil said. "If I had intentions of killing you outright I would have done so by now."

Dark Kat lowered his hands, and clasped them in front of himself.

"You may be overestimating your reach," Dark Kat replied. "Your arrogance will be your downfall, as Mt. Dragon Li will soon show you. By my estimates you have little over ten minutes remaining."

Felina glanced at the remote in her hands. It read 10:15.

"Perhaps, but individuals like you and me," Turmoil said, standing in front of Dark Kat now, looking up at him with her arms crossed behind her back. "What are we without our bold actions?"

Dark Kat did not reply, apparently considering the words.

"You and I, we don't ask for permission," Turmoil said as she turned her back to him, and then spoke over her shoulder. "We ask for forgiveness."

"What is it you're proposing?" Dark Kat asked with just a hint of curiosity.

"Like yourself, I have an appreciation for the nobler traditions," Turmoil said over her shoulder as her hand came to rest on the hilt of the sheathed sword at her side.

"So, this is a formal challenge," Dark Kat said, and reached over to his cane.

T-Bone tensed at the movement, but didn't interfere. His foot was tapping, his mind no doubt on the timer that was clicking down on the remote control in Felina's hands.

"It is," Turmoil replied, and turned to face him again.

"The stakes?" Dark Kat asked.

"You surrender what's left in this facility, and if you live, you fall into my custody," Turmoil said. "Name yours."

"I take your fleet and the technology you've obviously acquired from the SWAT Kats, and if you live, you fall into my custody," Dark Kat returned.

"Agreed," Turmoil said.

"Wait a second, what are you talking about-" T-Bone began, but Felina interrupted him.

"It's a duel," Felina said. "That's what all this has been about."

Felina crossed her arms, not sure whether to feel disappointed or impressed.

"A duel?" T-Bone asked as Turmoil drew her sword. "Are you crazy? This island's on the verge of destroying itself in less than ten minutes and you're going to-"

"T-Bone," Turmoil said, interrupting, holding the blade in an _en garde_ position. "Do not interfere."

T-Bone's arms were at his side, his body language more than adequately conveying his confusion.

"Don't worry, SWAT Kat," Dark Kat said as he grabbed the top of the cane and pulled on it. It slid out to reveal a concealed sword, the blade looking menacingly sharp. He mimicked Turmoil's stance, holding the weapon at the ready. "When I'm through with her, you'll get your chance."

"That's not going to happen," Turmoil said. "Now, whenever you're ready."

Felina and T-Bone both took steps back as the two combatants engaged each other. Felina felt that she had been transported into some other world where brash, over-dramatic pretenses somehow took center-stage. It'd been like that ever since she had left with Turmoil at the airport. It was actions like these that seemed to define how Turmoil viewed life, Felina assumed.

_Everything from her theft of the Turbokat, trying to recruit me, the attack on this island, cavorting with an enemy that had betrayed her, and that full-course exotic dinner complete with champagne and laughs? It's like she's got no grasp on reality._

_This mission should have been a failure, and it still looks like it could be. Everything hanging on the outcome of this impromptu duel. Or was it really impromptu? She's had that sword on her person ever since we left the carrier. And now here we've arrived, effectively alone with just the three of us, walking into this, when there's perfectly good support available. It's more than reckless. It's downright crazy. And yet, here I am, watching it unfold…_

Dark Kat was the first to advance. Felina had never assumed him to be a swordsman, but he demonstrated a knowledge of fencing in his movements, keeping his legs properly positioned, his leading foot matching his right hand as he led with several feints.

Turmoil, her unused hand kept on her hip, parried each attack without breaking her stance. Dark Kat appeared amused at the display, and began to shift in a circular course, orbiting around Turmoil.

_What's she doing? She's just standing there…_

Dark Kat lunged again, attacking Turmoil's exposed side. His blade found nothing, however, as Turmoil turned at the last moment and effortlessly deflected it.

"Staying on the defensive, I see?" Dark Kat asked rhetorically, and attacked again.

Turmoil did not respond, though a small grin appeared in the corner of her mouth, as she deflected again. Then again, and again.

Turmoil was now walking backwards, her stance upright, as the attacking Dark Kat kept moving forward. A wide slash was met with thin air as Turmoil casually moved her head out of the way. A powerful thrust was met with a parry, diverting the blade just to the side of Turmoil's torso. This repeated itself for several minutes, and the amusement Dark Kat seemed to have earlier began to slip away, his movements becoming more frustrated.

It was an impressive sight, and Felina found it almost humbling. Dark Kat was no slouch; she could tell from the way he carried himself in the duel. He was obviously a professional, but somehow Turmoil was outclassing him. The larger opponent had been entirely on the offensive, and Turmoil had yet to make an attack of her own.

Felina wasn't so entranced by the proceedings that she'd forgotten about the timer, and she looked down at the remote control. 2:59.

Beside her, T-Bone watched silently, and though he was no doubt trying to hide it, Felina could feel his anxiety.

"How much time is left?" Turmoil asked, keeping her eyes on the attacking Dark Kat, deflecting another strike as she spoke.

"Just under two minutes," Felina said, her own concern growing.

"That's enough time," Turmoil said, and as Dark Kat made one last lunge she flicked her blade to divert his upwards. Using the opening, she spun on her heels, almost like a ballerina, and got in close, using the elbow of her free hand and driving it into Dark Kat's left temple.

The blow disoriented the larger combatant. Before he could recover, Turmoil continued the rotation, and grabbed the hilt of her sword with both hands as she brought the blade downwards in a powerful chopping motion.

Felina's eyes went wide as she saw Dark Kat's sword clatter on the rubbled floor of the hangar. It landed at her feet, allowing her to see it in full detail. Still gripping its hilt was a purple hand. Each claw-like finger was adorned with expensive looking gold rings encrusted with jewels. It was severed cleanly at the wrist.

Beside her, T-Bone grimaced at the sight.

Dark Kat was on his knees, gripping at the stump with his other hand, a purple substance oozing from the amputation, presumably blood. He was breathing heavily, likely in a tremendous amount of pain. Turmoil sheathed her sword, and stood over him.

"The shutdown code, please," Turmoil said, looking down at her disarmed opponent.

Felina looked at the remote control in her hands. It was now at 47 seconds.

Dark Kat wheezed a very ill-sounding laugh, and he looked up.

"25-67-89," he said.

Without hesitation Felina entered the code on the keypad. The countdown stopped at 26 seconds. She sighed with relief, and gave a nod of success.

"Good," Turmoil said, and then spoke something inaudible into her radio.

The sound of diesel engines could now be heard just outside, and within moments three Oshkosh Mk.48 LVS trucks towing large, empty flatbeds pulled into the hangar, quickly followed by Turmoil's ground forces. The platoon sergeant from earlier was among them.

_Those trucks must've been what the LCAC delivered. Were they waiting outside this entire time?_

"Sergeant, take the prisoner into custody, and see to it that his wounds are attended to," Turmoil commanded as she started to briskly walk across the hangar.

"Aye aye," the sergeant said, and then took several soldiers with her to carry out the task.

Dark Kat was on his feet, surrounded by soldiers pointing weapons at him. The sergeant led him away, out of the hangar. Felina didn't hear him speak another word.

"Was that really necessary?" T-Bone asked as he stepped forward, making sure to walk over the severed hand still clutching the sword near his feet. Felina had to admit the same question was on her mind, too, as she followed after him.

"It was important that we reached an understanding," Turmoil said as T-Bone and Felina caught up to her.

"Understanding?" T-Bone said, and then moved in front of her, blocking her path. "You cut off his hand!"

The soldiers nearby tensed, stopping whatever they were doing, some reaching for weapons, ready to react to the disrespect being shown to their leader. Felina froze, ready to unsling the rifle on her shoulder. T-Bone didn't seem to care, his full attention on Turmoil

Turmoil laughed, and raised up her hand, signaling her troops to stand down. The room relaxed, and they began to go about whatever business it was they were there to do. Felina frowned.

"I could've taken much more than that," Turmoil said, and she brushed past the SWAT Kat.

"What are the trucks for?" Felina asked, looking to change the subject as she followed along. T-Bone sighed loudly, closing his eyes as he massaged his temples with his index finger and thumb.

"When I approached you I told you I would end the era of the super criminal," Turmoil said. "You have witnessed me do just that."

The back portion of the hangar which had previously been obscured was now in full view. Several hundred rows of pallets covered with green tarps were stacked up to shoulder-height. Stacked with what, Felina did not know, the tarps concealing the contents.

"I also said I'd bring an economic stability that will last a generation," Turmoil continued, and in one brisk motion she drew her sword and slashed it wildly across the nearest pallet, the tarp falling open.

In an instant, even in the low light of the bombed-out hangar, the glow of the objects contained within was still stunning. Stacked neatly in a pyramidal order were 1,000 ounce bars of gold. At least 100 hundred of them on the one pallet alone.

_Where did all of this come from? _

Felina didn't wonder long, realizing that Dark Kat's criminal activities had spanned the globe for an untold amount of years. Long before he'd made his official appearance in Megakat City there'd been rumors of his schemes in other countries. Those rumors had been treated as tall tales of the underworld, but here today Felina could see that maybe the hyperbole was warranted.

"Now, you have witnessed me do just that as well," Turmoil said as she re-sheathed her sword.

_"If you happen to have an extra $100 billion lying around maybe you could help," Callie Briggs had said a few days prior._

If Felina's math was correct, judging by the number of pallets in view, there was enough gold here to more than adequately meet that dollar amount.

T-Bone looked up at the stack of precious metal. His expression was filled with disgust.

"Of course, Megakat City's debts are not the only ones that can be met," Turmoil said as she walked over to T-Bone, and caressed his cheek with her hand. The SWAT Kat stiffened at the remark, and Felina wondered what it was she was referring to.

"I…need to get some air," T-Bone said as he turned away and walked off.

"What's wrong with him?" Felina couldn't help but ask out loud.

"He's a prisoner who's had the key to his cell dropped in his lap," Turmoil replied. "But like those who have been shackled for so long, freedom is a scary prospect."

Felina wasn't sure what she meant by that, and Jake's cautious words came to mind.

_"Make sure he doesn't do something stupid," Jake had said._

"But, that is another matter," Turmoil said as her troops began to fill the area, uncovering each of the gold filled pallets in preparation for moving. "Today, we are victorious."

"Yeah, I guess we are," Felina said.

_This was just a big heist, wasn't it? One crook stealing from another. And I helped._

Turmoil placed a hand on Felina's shoulder.

"This is how you make a difference," Turmoil said. "Megakat City will be made a better place by what we do here and in the following days."

Felina watched the soldiers begin the process of stacking the gold onto the flatbeds of the LVS trucks, feeling a growing apprehension with each bar placed there, the sight of Dark Kat's severed hand still fresh in her memory.

_I hope so…_


	17. Chapter 16

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

Cymric Island had long since disappeared over the horizon as the _Balikirev_ and its accompanying sister ships set sail on the open sea. Even the tall plume of smoke emanating from the top of Mt. Dragon Li could no longer be seen. The aircraft on deck had been secured, and the crew had returned to their duties.

Felina sighed as the sun finally disappeared on the watery horizon over the choppy waves. She was leaning on the guardrail of an overlook on the ship's conning tower.

Turmoil's forces had successfully retrieved the gold. All of it was still loaded aboard the LVS trucks parked on the LCAC hovercraft, safely docked in the Balikirev's well deck under heavily armed guard.

Dark Kat had been treated by Turmoil's medics. He was recovering in the ship's brig, under equally heavy guard, though Felina suspected he was in no condition to attempt any kind of escape.

Felina hadn't spoken to T-Bone since he'd walked away from the half-destroyed hangar after seeing the gold, though she had caught glimpses of him speaking to Turmoil in the ensuing day. What they discussed, Felina didn't know. Judging by his body language, it was a topic he seemed uncomfortable with.

Felina had considered approaching him, to find out what he thought about all of this. But, she didn't.

_What business is it of mine, anyway?_

Felina felt she had enough on her mind without having to delve into his problems, most importantly being what she'd do once the ship arrived in Megakat City. As usual, Turmoil hadn't provided a whole lot of details, but it sounded like she planned to roll right up main street and deliver Dark Kat and the gold at City Hall's doorstep. It'd definitely fit Turmoil's style if that was the case.

Footsteps clacked on the deck plating of the overlook, and Felina turned to see Lt. Durov approaching.

"Miss Feral," she began. "The Commander would like to see you in fifteen minutes."

"Well, my schedule's open," Felina remarked, not having much to do ever since they'd captured the island.

"She'll be expecting you in her cabin," the lieutenant said, and turned away.

"Hey," Felina said. "How'd you get mixed up in all of this?"

Lt. Durov stopped, and turned back around.

"In my country, after the government fell, my family was killed during the ensuing civil war," Lt. Durov said.

"I'm sorry," Felina said sincerely.

"One of the factions, in order to get money to finance their war, decided it'd be a good idea to sell orphans into slavery," the lieutenant continued. "I was 14 when I was taken."

Felina frowned, remembering her biggest problem at 14 was not getting picked for shortstop on her softball team.

"I spent several months in a cell with others like cattle," Lt. Durov said. "Everyday, one of us would be picked from the group, and put out to auction, and we'd never see them again."

"One day it was my turn, and I stood up on a podium, like a piece of meat, and several in the crowd started shouting out how much gold they'd pay," Lt. Durov said. "The man who ran everything, they called him _El Capitan_. He led the faction, and he also conducted the auction, collecting the gold personally."

"I never found out what my winning bid was," Lt. Durov said, and for the first time Felina saw her show emotion on a face that had thus far been stoic. She smiled.

"I never found out, because the auction was interrupted," Lt. Durov said. "Women soldiers dropped down from the ceiling, firing guns and taking the faction and their prospective customers by surprise. I closed my eyes, dropped to my knees and covered my ears in terror."

"It was over in seconds, but it seemed to last much longer," Lt. Durov said. "I felt hands on my shoulders, and I opened my eyes to look up and it was her. The Commander."

"She said that I didn't have to be a slave, and could choose a new path," Lt. Durov said. "That if I wanted, I could have a home among others like myself. To have a new family."

"Did _El Capitan_ get caught in the crossfire?" Felina asked.

"No," Lt. Durov said. "He was unscathed as his men were cut down around him. I suppose in hindsight that was deliberate."

"What happened to him?" Felina asked.

"Commander Turmoil explained to him that she was hired by one of the rival factions to eliminate the others. She said that normally she did not take assignments for the low amount she was being paid, but she'd make an exception when she learned they were selling children," Lt. Durov said. "But, she said she wanted to give _El Capitan_ a fighting chance to show that he was not just _rodilsya cherez jopu."_

Felina wasn't sure what that phrase was, but judging by the context, it didn't sound like a compliment.

"So, she asked Captain Elizaveta for her sidearm, and she tossed it to _El Capitan_," Lt Durov said. "_El Capitan_ looked surprised, and hesitantly picked up the handgun at his feet."

"Commander Turmoil said that if he could draw on her successfully, he'd be free to leave," Lt. Durov said.

"Did he?" Felina asked.

"Did he draw? Yes," she replied. "Was he successful? The 9mm hole that appeared in his chest before he could finish taking aim should answer that question."

Felina imagined that scene, clearly seeing Turmoil drawing that P38 of hers and pulling the trigger without hesitation. Had Felina not already witnessed what Turmoil had done, she'd have thought that Lt. Durov was exaggerating in her story.

"So, to answer your question, that is how I got mixed up in all of this," Lt. Durov said, her face returning to its stoic expression.

"Is that how all of you wind up here?" Felina asked.

"Some of us come from that kind of background," Lt. Durov said. "Others have had far more troubling pasts, and still others…"

Lt. Durov's eyes met Felina's.

"Well, let's just say I trust the Commander's judgement wholeheartedly," Lt. Durov said.

Normally Felina would've been offended at that kind of snub, but given the context, she couldn't help but somewhat agree with Lt. Durov's quiet appraisal.

"Yeah, I guess I don't really fit in around here," Felina said.

"You could fit in here very well," Lt. Durov said. "But, if I may say, you would need to…how do they say? Get above yourself?"

Felina smiled.

"Get _over_ yourself," Felina said. "Wrong preposition."

"Yes, that," Lt. Durov said.

"Yeah, you might have a point," Felina said with a sigh as another thought came to mind. "Does everyone Turmoil asks to join stick around?"

"Usually," Lt. Durov said. "She is very persuasive."

"What happens when someone doesn't want to?" Felina asked.

"Then they may go after their duties have been fulfilled," Lt. Durov said.

"Two-weeks notice, I take it?" Felina asked.

The lieutenant shrugged.

"Something like that," Lt. Durov said. "We are a family here. Would you make a member of your family walk the plank if they wanted to do something else?"

"Well, maybe not literally, but sometimes it seems like that," Felina remarked.

"Then maybe you need a new family," Lt. Durov said as she turned away once more, heading back to her post.

* * *

Felina walked through the narrow corridor of the ship, keeping her attention on her feet, trying hard not to look along the hallway that dipped up and down. The rocking of the boat was hardly noticeable above deck, but below, it seemed overemphasized, and she didn't want to get seasick. Arriving at her destination, she knocked on the cabin door.

"Enter," the voice of Turmoil said.

Felina opened it and stepped inside to find Turmoil and T-Bone within.

_Or, maybe it's back to Chance now._

He was sitting on the corner of the made bed, not wearing his mask. He was leaning forward, his arms rested on his knees, fingers clasped, apparently deeply in thought before Felina had interrupted. He looked up, and seeing who it was, stood up.

"I should go and check on Dark Kat," he said, and then walked past Felina, exiting the room.

Felina watched him leave, wondering what was being discussed just moments prior.

Turmoil was standing in the middle of the room, once again wearing her more formal looking deep magenta uniform, though her cap and cape were hanging nearby from ornate matching hooks on the wall of the cabin.

"Lt. Durov said you wanted to see me," Felina said.

"Yes," Turmoil said. "Please, have a seat."

The table the trio had dined together at the previous evening was still there, though it lacked the mealtime presentation. Instead, a bishop-style crystal decanter filled with a brown liquid and two empty rounded whiskey glasses rested atop the table.

"Drink?" Turmoil asked as she lifted the decanter and poured the contents into a glass.

"Sure," Felina said, and the glass was slid across the table to her.

Turmoil poured one for herself and took a seat opposite.

Felina lifted the glass to her mouth, smelling the subtle odor she'd heard some describe as a mix between Band-Aids and Sharpie.

_Definitely Scotch._

Felina took a swig of the drink, feeling the all-too familiar warming sensation.

"So," Turmoil began after she'd finished raising her glass to her lips, "when were you planning on shooting me?"

Felina's eyes went wide for a moment, caught off guard by the question. She had returned the AK-74 she'd been issued back to the armorer, but had kept the Glock 36. It was still on her person, in the small of her back.

"You shouldn't look so surprised," Turmoil said. "There's very little I don't know about you."

"That so?" Felina asked as she set her glass down on the table. "Why the interest?"

"I consider myself an excellent judge of potential," Turmoil said, and pointed a finger at her. "And you, Miss Feral, are in the running for first place."

"Didn't realize it was a contest," Felina remarked.

"Oh, but it is," Turmoil said. "We're all competing at one level or another."

"Who are you competing with, then?" Felina asked.

Turmoil smiled.

"I am in competition with many things," Turmoil said. "My past, my former associates, and in many ways, myself."

"You alluded to that past the other night," Felina said. "You were a little dodgy about the details."

"I don't like to get into too many specifics about my past," Turmoil said. "What you need to know about me I've already said, or you've no doubt overheard from my subordinates."

"Then what about these 'former associates,' as you put it?" Felina asked.

"Ah, them," Turmoil said as she leaned back in her seat. "One of them is recovering in the brig at the moment."

"Dark Kat?" Felina asked.

"Over the years we've had occasions to work together for various reasons," Turmoil said. "Sometimes he would hire us to carry out tasks in countries you've never heard of. Other times we would work together as partners to accomplish some other goal."

"So, you're friends with a mad man who's tried more than once to destroy Megakat City, not to mention kill those closest to me?" Felina asked.

Turmoil raised her index finger in a halting motion.

"No, not friends," Turmoil said. "Like so many others, Dark Kat was a means to an end. I don't particularly like him, nor do I hate him. But, I do _respect_ him."

"You have a funny way of showing it," Felina said.

"How do you think it is that I know everything that I know?" Turmoil asked. "You don't gain power or influence by sitting idly in your own little world. You have to go out and interact, especially with those you don't like."

"I've known about Dark Kat's gold reserves for over a decade. I'm responsible for at least one fourth of those acquisitions, in fact. I've known about his base of operations at Cymric Island even longer, because I'm the one who told him about it. There was always an understanding between us, and I honored that this morning."

"By cutting off his hand?" Felina asked.

"I gave him the chance to honorably take it back," Turmoil said. "It is a tradition few appreciate in this day and age."

"Yeah, because it's insane," Felina blurted out.

Turmoil laughed.

"You do not hesitate to speak your mind," Turmoil said. "I like that."

Turmoil poured some more of the Scotch into Felina's glass and into her own.

Felina looked at the brown liquid, her finger tips still wrapped around the glass, but she did not take another sip.

"What you call insane, I call being bold," Turmoil said. "It is boldness that gains respect. Boldness that gains attention. Boldness that can achieve things others think impossible. Boldness that establishes a reputation. A reputation that can open the right doors, and work to dissuade those who'd work against me."

"I'm not sure I can fully appreciate your methods," Felina said.

"That's fine," Turmoil said. "But you cannot deny my results."

Felina pondered Turmoil's words for a moment, and a thought came to mind.

"Did you know Captain Ritz?" Felina asked.

"Ah yes, the retired Enforcer CAG," Turmoil said, and took a sip of her drink. "He was quite useful."

"So, he wasn't just working for Dark Kat…" Felina said aloud.

"Ritz shared his knowledge with those who he thought could help him further his agenda," Turmoil said. "For a time, I was one of those. In fact, it's how I came to learn about you."

When Dark Kat had kidnapped Felina last year, he'd shown her an entire dossier of confidential, internal files. Ritz had been the one who had provided them, and Felina would not be surprised if he'd done the same thing for Turmoil.

"So that's what you meant about being able to navigate the Enforcer's secrets," Felina surmised. "Was he the only traitor?"

"No," Turmoil said. "There are many who've grown dissatisfied with things, and who are eager to lend me their ears."

Felina frowned.

"How many?" Felina asked.

"Oh, I don't know, a few dozen perhaps?" Turmoil said with disinterest. "I'd thought you would sympathize. You've seen how ineffective the leadership is in Megakat City."

"Not so ineffective that I'd betray…" Felina began, and then stopped herself.

Turmoil gave her a knowing look.

"But haven't you?" Turmoil asked. "You're sitting at the table and sharing a drink with me right now. Earlier today, you could've intervened in my duel, but you didn't. You could've ignored my invitation, but you didn't. You could've listened to your dispatcher and waited for backup at the office complex, but you didn't."

Felina was silent as she let those words sink in.

"But, perhaps 'betray,' as you said, doesn't really describe your choices accurately," Turmoil said. "Like myself and everyone else I have under my command, you've risen above the limitations others have tried to force upon you."

Felina remembered the unwanted advice she'd gotten days earlier.

_"I never thought I'd be the one to say this, but yeah, you do have to play by certain rules," Chance Furlong had said._

"Some of those limitations you like to rise above, those wouldn't happen to include laws against stealing and murdering, would they?" Felina asked.

"Depending on the circumstances, those can be very subjective concepts," Turmoil said dismissively, and took another sip.

"I'm not sure I want to find myself in those circumstances," Felina said with a sigh, and she slid the still filled glass away from herself.

Both were quiet for a few minutes, and Felina broke the silence, deciding to be direct.

"What is it you want from me?" Felina asked.

Turmoil set her glass down.

"I want you to be a part of what I'm offering Megakat City," Turmoil said. "In the morning, we will arrive at Megakat Bay, and then I will march up Main Street and present my offerings to the city."

"And?" Felina asked.

"And I will make my case," Turmoil said. "Which if I do successfully, I anticipate you having a renewed career with the Enforcers."

"You're gonna have to make a pretty convincing case," Felina muttered.

"I intend to," Turmoil said.

Felina wondered just how Turmoil expected the Enforcers to react once she arrived, and pondered asking the question, but decided against it.

_I probably wouldn't get a straight answer anyway._

Felina was concerned with how it'd look when others saw her alongside Turmoil, and what kind of questions would result.

_Gee, mister internal affairs agent, I was just tagging along for a dangerous and probably illegal military expedition to apprehend the most wanted criminal in history, working in an unapproved undercover capacity while under a dicey medical suspension. I'm sure you won't see fit to have me fired or thrown in jail, right?_

Felina got the feeling she didn't have to voice that out loud. From the look on Turmoil's face, Felina could tell she knew. Probably had from the very beginning.

_I've got no choice but to just follow along._

"Get some rest," Turmoil said as she stood up. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

* * *

"Razor, come in," Felina spoke into her communicator, only to hear empty static in return.

She'd been trying to contact the other SWAT Kat from the privacy of the bunk she'd been assigned for the past five minutes, and he hadn't picked up. It was just before midnight.

_Maybe he's asleep._

Felina sighed and set the communicator down, and laid down back-first on her bunk, her arms crossed behind her head. She stared up at the low ceiling, the plating painted a dull grey.

She had been going over her discussion with Turmoil in her mind over and over. Too many things didn't add up, which made her feel uneasy.

"Though, all things considered, I suppose one could do worse," Felina thought aloud, referring to her surroundings.

At that, her cabin door thudded with several distinct raps. She frowned and sat up. Someone was knocking. She withdrew her Glock 36 as she stood up and approached the door, keeping it pointed low and at the ready in her right hand. With her left she grabbed the door's handle, and cautiously cracked it open, and saw who it was.

"Got a minute?" Chance Furlong asked from the other side.

"Yeah," Felina said, and opened the door all the way.

Chance stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. Felina walked back over to her bunk and took a cross-legged seat, setting the pistol down beside herself. Chance took the room's only chair from a very compact desk and spun it around to sit in it backwards, leaning his forearms on the rail.

"So, haven't seen much of you since we found all that gold," Felina said.

"Yeah," Chance replied. "Been doing a lot of thinking."

"Same here," Felina replied.

"I'm sure you've probably guessed by now that Turmoil wants me to stick around," Chance said. "Gave me another invitation to work at her side."

"Sounds like it could be a real step up," Felina said.

"I guess it would, in a lot of ways," Chance said. "But I don't think I could do it."

"Certainly it's not the law that's got you concerned," Felina said.

"No. Ever since this…" Chance began as he held up his mask. "The whole notion of legal versus illegal has kind of blurred a bit."

"Then what?" Felina asked. "You don't like her anymore?"

"No, that's not it," Chance said with a laugh. "There's plenty to like about her. That's what makes this difficult."

Admittedly Felina didn't know Chance all that well, and still really hadn't fully come to terms with thinking of him as T-Bone and vice versa. His hesitation and indecisiveness seemed to go so contrary to the larger-than-life super hero the media portrayed both SWAT Kats as.

_Both SWAT Kats…_

"It's Jake, isn't it?" Felina asked. "You're afraid you'll hurt him if you pursue this tryst of yours?"

He stared off, not looking at her, apparently considering the words, and was quiet for several minutes.

"I'm the one that got us kicked off the Enforcers," Chance said.

Felina listened.

"Jake was just along for the ride," Chance continued. "I'm the one who disobeyed orders. I'm the one who got in the Commander's face. He didn't have anything to do with it."

"But, he stood by me anyway," Chance said. "Jake could've made an appeal, given testimony against me, kept his job. But, he didn't. And his life is ruined because of it."

"He was in the Enforcers so he could pay for college," Chance continued. "And to get real-life exposure to aerospace engineering applications. Once his stint was over with, he'd have been able to walk right into Puma Dyne, Kat Co. or Lockheed. If it wasn't for me he'd probably be a millionaire by now."

The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

"When Turmoil came back and stole the Turbokat, it was because of me again. The consequences of my actions once again cost not just me, but him, too. While there are worse second prizes to have, that's really what the SWAT Kats have been, when you get right down to it. The silver medal. An alternative to what both of us were supposed to be. Now, we're just a couple of junkmen who hide behind masks to do occasional good. And, with the way thing's have been getting worse in the city, and your uncle's constant lambasting, I'm beginning to wonder if what we've done really is good or not."

"That's why I had to do this alone," Chance said. "I couldn't let Jake get wrapped up any deeper in my mistakes. He's already done enough."

"So, that's why," Felina mused aloud.

"That's why what?" Chance asked.

"Why you didn't want me involved," Felina said. "You're afraid you'd feel responsible for getting another Enforcer kicked off the force."

Chance sighed and looked down.

"Not _just_ another Enforcer," Chance said.

"That's so sweet of you," Felina said dryly as she crossed her arms.

He looked up, his expression a little irritated.

"You've done a really good job making this all about you," Felina said, and she got up from her seat on the bunk, standing up. "But I'm here for reasons of my own."

He frowned and stood up as well.

"And what reasons are those?" he asked. "To have someone smugly preen over you? Have your unacknowledged accomplishments get complimented? Get patted on the back and told how awesome you are?"

Felina's eyes narrowed.

"You know, the more I get to know you, the more I really hate your guts," Felina said as she stepped up to him, once again getting in his face. He didn't back down.

"I've been feeling the same way about you, lately," Chance replied.

She could feel the breath of his words on her face, feeling frustrated that he made her feel frustrated. Or was it something else? Something unspoken, beneath the surface of the words. Some kind of primal interaction that desired to occur, but went against her better judgement. If that were the case, it was even more frustrating, because that would just be weakness. A weakness she couldn't tolerate, especially in lieu of their current temperaments.

_Maybe in another time or place. But not here, not now, and probably not ever._

"Get out," Felina said plainly, and pointed at the door.

"Gladly," Chance replied, and exited the cabin.


	18. Chapter 17

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 17**

Felina sat in the rear passenger seat of the Humvee, staring out the reinforced, bullet-proof window. She was wearing the clothes she had originally set off in, feeling a little out of place in the hooded sweatshirt and jeans.

To her left, Chance, now T-Bone, was seated. His SWAT Kat's mask in place. Neither of them had spoken to each other since the previous evening's conversation. Turmoil sat in the front passenger seat, dressed in the full regalia of her uniform. One of her nameless female soldiers was driving. The Humvee was leading several others straight down Main Street, with the Oshkosh Mk.48 LVS trucks carrying tarp-covered payloads following behind. It was an impressive caravan that attracted confused looks from various pedestrians and motorists.

Turmoil's small fleet had sailed directly into Megakat Bay undeterred, with the _Balikirev_ anchoring at a private mooring in the docks where the vehicles had offloaded rapidly onto the nearby streets. To Felina's surprise, there was no Enforcer presence to greet them, which made her wonder if anyone was manning the threat detection system. Or worse, if that someone was on Turmoil's payroll.

As the density of tents, signs and the colorful array of citizens on the sidewalks increased, Felina noted they were entering downtown, which meant they'd be at City Hall shortly.

_Looks like the city's problems are still ongoing._

The familiar sound of a bullhorn caught Felina's ears, and she could see the same group of union members from last week gathered together, holding more signs. The same man, who Callie had named as Ross O'Reilly, was no longer talking about a strike. From the looks of things, and the amount of fellow union members gathered, they appeared to be right in the middle of doing one.

_And in front of City Hall, no less._

The Humvee pulled up to the curb and came to a stop, the other Humvees doing the same. The LVS Trucks came to a halt one after another right in the middle of the street, causing much irritated honking from the cars behind them.

The unexpected arrival of the military vehicles caused Ross to stop his hardly intelligible chanting, as the strikers looked in their direction. Among them were other Enforcer officers. Some of the faces Felina recognized from her own precinct. Apparently there to keep the peace, their confused expressions were the same as the rest of the crowd's. Several news vans with their satellite dishes pointed at the sky were also about, and several reporters with cameras turned their attention.

Turmoil exited the Humvee, stepping onto the sidewalk, her black, vampiric cape dropping down elegantly behind her as she walked forward. Several in the crowd gasped at her presence.

T-Bone's body language indicated reluctance as he too exited the Humvee, and followed after her. Felina did the same. She shivered briefly, as Megakat City was still experiencing the tail-end of winter, starkly in contrast to the tropical region she'd just been in the day before.

"Isn't that what's her name?" someone said.

"That's Turmoil!" a female voice said. "Jonny, get a shot of her!"

"What's T-Bone doing with her?" another asked. "That is T-Bone, the SWAT Kat, right?"

Turmoil advanced forward, the strikers pushing out of the way, allowing her egress up the steps of City Hall, where Ross O'Reilly was standing.

Turmoil towered above the union boss. He looked uncertain as she leaned forward to speak down to him.

"Mind if I borrow this?" she asked.

"Uh, sure," Ross said, and held up the bullhorn.

Turmoil took it in her hand, and then held it up to her mouth, paying particular attention to the cameras pointed at her.

T-Bone stopped at about three steps under Turmoil, and faced the crowd, his expression difficult to read. Felina stood next to him, feeling a little strange at the front of the crowd, though their attention seemed to be focused on the woman in the cape.

"You have all gathered here today to voice your grievances," Turmoil said, speaking into the bullhorn, her amplified voice carrying out clearly into the crowd. "Many of you have been here for days, weeks, and even months."

Turmoil gestured behind herself to the City Hall building with her empty hand.

"And what have your elected leaders done in that time?" Turmoil asked. "Have they come up with a solution to end your problems? Or have they just been looking out for themselves, leaving all of you to pay for their mistakes?"

The crowd rumbled at the notion, seemingly in tentative agreement, though most still seemed unsure.

"I'll tell you," Turmoil said as she reached behind her back and produced a small stack of papers. "I hold in front of you a copy of the budget the Mayor's Office is going to propose. In it, there is nothing to help with your city's failing infrastructure. There is nothing to help with the furloughs. There is nothing of substance that will address your economic woes."

"But, I will tell what is in it," Turmoil said. "Plans to reduce your healthcare benefits, limit the liability of the city, layoff over half of the city's workers, pay cuts, and higher taxes."

Turmoil threw the pages of the document, and they scattered haphazardly as they fell to the ground. The crowd rumbled again, this time more audibly.

"But not everything is getting cut," Turmoil said. "One organization in particular has remained untouched through all of this. Your Megakat City Enforcers. Tell me, my friends, why is it you, who work so hard, get cast aside, while those who have been unable to do their jobs get held up high?"

Felina frowned, feeling her dread growing.

"When this city is threatened by Dark Kat, what does this city do? It calls upon its Enforcers, who in turn cannot stop him. They are more than happy to take your money, which they pocket or spend irresponsibly. But you already know this," Turmoil continued. "As have members of your citizenry."

Turmoil gestured to T-Bone, and he held up his hands in an expression of humility. Or perhaps it was embarrassment.

"When the Enforcers fail, the SWAT Kats show up," Turmoil said. "And while they do an admirable job, they are just a Band-Aid. Triage on the battlefield. They cannot be expected to provide a lasting, long-term solution. Especially when this city's leadership is filled with corruption and incompetence."

The crowd murmured, the tone sounding mostly in agreement.

"You get betrayed by individuals, such as Enforcer Captain Ritz, who sold his soul to Dark Kat, an incident Commander Ulysses Feral's Enforcers have tried to keep quiet. You have a mayor who's unwilling to challenge the big businesses of this city who've endangered your lives with their careless antics because he golfs with their CEOs and accepts their generous campaign donations. When one of your representatives like Councilman James Anderson stands up for what's right, he gets killed by the Metallikats."

Turmoil paused, letting her words sink in.

"My friends, at best Megakat City is run by fools. And at worst, it is run by crooks," Turmoil said.

"But, there's hope," Turmoil said. "Any government that's grown too large or too inept is no longer legitimate. And like others in history, it's been up to the people to make the change."

"I am willing to lead you in that change, today," Turmoil said. "I will do what those in the building behind me cannot do. I will bring you security. I will bring you prosperity."

At that, one of the doors of the parked Humvees opened and an ankle-shackled prisoner dressed in an orange jumpsuit was led out by two of Turmoil's soldiers. It was Dark Kat, and he was prodded forward, looking the worse for wear, his arm in a sling, with his amputation covered in fresh bandages.

The crowd collectively gasped at his presence. The response seemed to make Megakat City's most wanted criminal stand upright with confidence, apparently inspired by their reaction to his infamy. He was brought forward to the steps of City Hall and positioned for all to see like some kind of carnival attraction.

_Step right up and see the captured villain…_

"My forces have brought an end to this man's reign of terror," Turmoil said. "I present him before you today: Dark Kat."

This time the crowd's reaction was more visceral, filled with boos and other shouts of anger. Someone threw their beverage from fifteen feet away, and it collided with Dark Kat's face. The brown liquid dripped down his features, but all he did was smile defiantly.

Amid the shouts, Felina could hear bits and pieces of threats directed against the villain, including one particularly passionate statement from an older woman who blamed Dark Kat for the death of one of her sons during an attack against the city. It was an ugly scene, and Felina took it in, not disagreeing with the sentiments, knowing full well that Dark Kat deserved every harsh word he got. Though the words weren't what concerned Felina.

_This crowd is going to lynch him._

"What should we do with him?" Turmoil asked the crowd.

"Kill him!" someone indistinctly shouted, which was followed by several cheers of agreement.

T-Bone tensed on the steps, and he gave Felina a look of uncertainty. This was obviously not something he'd been expecting.

"Hold it right there!" an authoritative and familiar voice bellowed. The crowd quieted down in reaction.

Felina looked up to origin of the voice. It was Commander Ulysses Feral just exiting the front doors of City Hall. He descended down the steps at a commanding pace. He was not alone, either, as Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs followed after. The Enforcer officers that were in the crowd mulled forward simultaneously, gathering at the foot of the steps in front of the crowd, acting as a barrier, and effectively surrounding Turmoil's group with law enforcement.

"Well, the ruling elite have descended from their castle to deign us with their presence," Turmoil said through the bullhorn and then gave a mock bow.

As she did, her cape rippled as two Enforcer Choppers descended from above, hovering at about 100 feet, their rotors creating a minor spiral of wind at that distance.

"Turmoil, I'm placing you under arrest," Commander Feral said, pointing a finger. "Tell your soldiers to hand over their weapons and surrender."

Felina met her uncle's eyes briefly, but she had a difficult time reading him, his attention focused on Turmoil it seemed.

The two female soldiers at Dark Kat's side both looked unintimidated, their rifles kept low but at the ready.

"It is not I who should be placed under arrest, Commander Feral," Turmoil said, her hair blowing in the updraft, and then turned her attention back to the crowd. "I've given you Dark Kat. Now, I give you this."

The soldier's operating the LVS trucks parked on the street got up on the flat beds and pulled back the tarps to reveal the bullion. The sunlight reflected brightly upon the seemingly endless stacks of gold bars, casting the faces of the crowd in a yellowed hue.

"At current spot value, that's 110 billion dollars worth of gold bullion," Turmoil said through the bullhorn, turning her attention back to the crowd. "More than enough to offset this city's budget crisis."

Felina glanced up at Callie Briggs, whose attention seemed fixated on the gold. From the deputy mayor's stunned expression, Felina could tell that Turmoil's summation was accurate.

"But, what good is that if this city's leadership doesn't change?" Turmoil asked rhetorically, and pointed toward Callie Briggs. "They will only squander this opportunity, like an overboard sailor poking a hole in his raft. No, my friends, we can't let them waste this opportunity. Follow me, and I will lead you in a revolution that will eliminate these illegitimate leaders, give you a restored purpose, provide you safety, prosperity, and give you back a better Megakat City."

"Now, just a minute," Callie Briggs began as she tried to walk down the steps to get closer to Turmoil, but was stopped by Commander Feral's outstretched arm.

"Go back inside, deputy mayor," Feral said cautiously.

She gave him a look of contempt.

"I'm not just going to sit idly back while this woman makes highly exaggerated and one-sided claims about this administration," Callie said.

The crowd's overall tenor had grown mixed, and most seemed uncertain about what they were seeing.

"So, I ask you, my friends," Turmoil said. "Will you let yourselves continue to be treated as an easily discarded commodity, or will you rise up to take back what's yours?"

Felina would have been lying to herself if she said Turmoil's words didn't strike a chord. Felina had seen the corruption. Seen the inability of those in power to act. Been subject to consequences for doing the right thing. Been part of a system that often times seemed so broken as to contradict itself. Something _had_ to be done, and _someone_ had to do it.

But was this what needed to happen? And was Turmoil that someone?

Felina felt a sensation she rarely ever felt. It was something she thought that after years of training and existence in a military environment she had stamped out. Something she'd been taught to remove from her consciousness, because succumbing to it would mean certain death.

That sensation was indecision, and Felina was experiencing its most dangerous side-effect. She stood, frozen in place.

Commander Feral, Callie Briggs and even T-Bone seemed similarly frozen, though Felina couldn't be sure if it was for the same reasons as herself. Perhaps they were hesitant to react, and waiting for the crowd to convey its response.

The first to react, surprisingly, was Ross O'Reilly, who had been standing nearby ever since Turmoil had requested his bullhorn. He stepped forward, and held out his hand toward Turmoil, who towered next to him. She smiled, and handed him back his bullhorn.

He held it up, and it crackled briefly with feedback for a moment before he adjusted it and spoke.

"Wow," he said, giving a forced chuckle. "I think a lot of our frustrations were vocalized just now."

"This has really been a tough year for all of us," Ross continued. "And a lot of things have been said, particularly between myself and this administration."

Ross gestured toward Callie Briggs, and she gave a knowing nod.

"But, maybe it's the things that have gone unsaid that are just as important," Ross said. "While we have had our public disagreements as of late, I've always considered Callie Briggs a friend. And, the same can be said for a number of the city council members. Not all, of course. I'm pretty sure George Martinez still hates me for getting him out during the charity baseball game we had a few years back."

A few in crowd laughed at the remark.

"But, my point is, these people are working for us and representing us," Ross continued. "They're not evil, and I do believe they have the interests of Megakat City at heart. And they don't ignore us, though at times we have to be loud to convince them to take a right course of action. That's why we strike."

"But, we strike to help better this institution," Ross said, and turned to face Turmoil. "Not to overthrow it. Are we upset about the way things have gone? Absolutely! Do we want some meaningful changes made to address our concerns? Of course! But we're not going to resort to violence, and we're certainly not going to be pawns in whatever game it is you're playing."

The words hung in the air for a moment, but several of the gathered began to clap in approval. It was a somber cheer, one not steeped in enthusiasm, but something more understated.

It was at this point that Dark Kat made his presence known in an unexpected way, as thus far the strangeness of the situation had diverted attention away from even him. From his imprisoned position between Turmoil's two soldiers, he began to laugh.

"Unable to sway them to your side, even with the odds unfairly balanced in your favor," Dark Kat said, addressing Turmoil.

For the first time, Felina saw Turmoil's expression sour. That look of confidence laced with an unequaled cavalierness that Felina had begun to synonymize with her was gone. The wry grin had turned to a scowl.

Ross O'Reilly seemed to notice that, too, and he cautiously backed away. T-Bone was now the closest one to her, and he approached, placing a hand on Turmoil's shoulder.

"It's over," T-Bone said, almost soothingly.

Commander Feral motioned to the other Enforcers present to move in, his glance briefly falling on Felina, at which she sighed. She recognized that look. It was an expression of expectation. While she didn't know what awaited her in the near future, Felina knew what was being expected of her now.

_Guess it's time to make that arrest._

The Enforcers began to circle inward, a few with their sidearms drawn, others with handcuffs at the ready. Turmoil's soldiers tensed, but did not raise their rifles, instead looking to Turmoil whose attention had become fixated on the ground. Felina moved in with them, and began to reach for the small of her back to grab at the concealed pistol there.

Turmoil's offer had been tempting, but like many things in life it would've been too easy. Too easy to just destroy everything instead of making it better. Too easy to ignore solving the city's problems by refocusing on something else. Too easy to blame those in charge, when the responsibility was shared by everyone.

_Even me…_

Felina realized that Chance Furlong was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She was the only constant in her life. The only one making a difference in how things went. Sure, there were external variables, and more than enough unfairness to go around. But she could still control how she let it effect herself. And admittedly, she'd been taking the easy way out. Instead of taking a hard look in the mirror she'd projected her problems onto others, and turned to heavy drinking and self-pity. Everyone else close to her seemed to recognize it. Even Dark Kat, who now stood there laughing, had recognized it when he tried to make her a patsy in one of his schemes the previous year. Callie Briggs, who also stood there adjacent to Commander Feral, with a look of concern on her face, knew it, and had tried to help. But, Felina had been casting that help aside.

It was, for lack of a better term, a moment of clarity.

_The world isn't really against me. It's me who's been against me._

Turmoil had to have known that as well. The attempts at manipulation seemed so clear now, as they followed the same pattern that had now failed on the gathered thousand or so protesters who'd had enough collective sense not to fall for it.

_But, now what? There's nowhere to-_

A gunshot erupted, startling Felina. She ducked down and drew the Glock 36. Several in the crowd screamed as people began to jumble, bumping into one another, others falling to the ground. The Enforcers had their own weapons drawn, and were frantically trying to get control of the situation.

Felina was shouldered by one of the protesters who was scrambling away from the scene, and she stumbled momentarily before getting her footing. Higher on the steps, Commander Feral was leading Callie Briggs back toward City Hall's entrance.

Felina decided that was the direction to go, and as she began to make her way, her foot kicked into something. She glanced down, and saw an unmoving form, wearing an orange jumpsuit. The same individual whose hand she'd witnessed lost in a duel. Dark Kat was lying face-down on the steps of City Hall.

He was dead. The gunshot wound made that obviously clear.

_But who did it?_

Felina looked up just in time to see Turmoil holstering her Walther, the barrel still smoking. T-Bone had taken a knee next to her, rubbing the back of his head in a dazedly confused manner as if he'd been unexpectedly struck. Turmoil's two accompanying soldiers took aim with their rifles and let lose a volley of automatic weapons fire over the heads of the crowd.

Now no one lingered, as everyone stampeded, trying to get away as fast as possible. The Enforcers on hand were overcome by the deluge of citizenry. It was probably for the best, Felina quickly realized, as more of Turmoil's soldiers exited the other Humvees and trucks, weapons at the ready. They took aim at the Enforcers, who upon realizing they were surrounded, reluctantly raised their hands in surrender.

Above, unintelligible orders were echoing from the two Enforcer chopper's megaphones. This noise was quickly replaced with an abrupt interruption, as the choppers exploded midair in viscous fireballs, causing debris to rain down. A large chunk fell between herself and Turmoil, causing Felina to fall back out of reflex. Had the crowd not already been dispersed, Felina imagined several would've been killed by the metallic downpour. This was followed by twin shrieks of jet engines. Two of the Turbokat copies zoomed past at high speed overhead, the apparent cause of the choppers' demise.

Felina stared through the burning wreckage that separated her from Turmoil. Their eyes met, and Felina could see that whatever good intentions Turmoil may have had upon arrival were nowhere to be found now.

Felina got back to her feet, and ran up the steps of City Hall, chasing after her uncle and the deputy mayor.


	19. Chapter 18

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 18**

Felina shouldered through the revolving door of City Hall's lobby to find the interior deserted save for two individuals at the back of the room who were waiting for an elevator. It was Commander Feral and Deputy Mayor Briggs.

"Felina!" Callie shouted, seeing her enter.

Felina, her sidearm still in hand, dashed quickly across the scuffed, tile floor that was in need of buffing. She ran through the unmanned metal detector, and it beeped loudly in response to her weapon. Felina arrived next to them just in time as the elevator dinged and its doors slid open.

"I can't raise HQ," Commander Feral said, having drawn his own sidearm, a full-size Glock 17. He ushered both of them into the elevator, being the last to enter as the doors closed.

Whatever animosity or curiosity he had surrounding Felina's circumstances was on hold, as the urgency of the situation made things all business. Any of the Commander's chewing out, inquiries or punishments resulting thereof would have to wait, Felina assumed, as he pressed the top floor button. The car briefly lurched as it ascended, headed for the mayor's office.

"She probably took out the StarCom antennae," Felina said, and leaned against the wall of the elevator car, catching her breath.

"What did she think she was trying to accomplish?" Callie asked, her voice filled with concern. "And what were you and T-Bone doing with Turmoil?"

"I dunno," Felina replied honestly. "But last I saw of him, I don't think he's okay."

She mentally cursed herself for leaving the SWAT Kat behind, but given the circumstances there wasn't much she could do. She would've been outnumbered and outgunned if she'd tried to do anything else.

_I can regroup. Rethink this. Figure out what's going on._

"Never mind him," Commander Feral said. "We need to get you and the mayor to safety, Miss Briggs."

"And just how are you going to do that?" Callie asked.

"We'll get the mayor, place a call via the office landline, and have a chopper pick us up on the roof," Commander Feral said.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. The muted carpet, aging wallpaper and artificial plants of the top floor's corridor welcomed them. Commander Feral exited first, his sidearm at the low and ready position as he hastily walked down the hall.

Callie Briggs followed after, with Felina taking up the rear.

"Is there anyone else up here?" Feral asked over his shoulder as he arrived at a set of large, wooden double-doors. A bronze-plated sign adjacent read THE OFFICE OF THE MAYOR OF MEGAKAT CITY.

"No one else, well, except for my assistant, Erin," Callie said.

Felina recalled Callie Briggs words from days earlier.

_"What we can't offer in cash we can offer in college credits for an internship."_

Feral nodded and then turned the knob of one of the doors. It opened with a mild creak.

While Callie Briggs's office had been more utilitarian and functional, Manx's was a testament to excess. The high ceiling was adorned with an ornate pattern of moldings, with turn of the century-style light fixtures chosen for their aesthetics rather than necessity. A large six-foot tall window dominated the main wall of the room, giving what was probably the best view of the city. Paintings of obscure historical figures hung on the walls, and an impressive mahogany desk, lacquered a deep brown, occupied the far end. On the floor, a putting green track ran along the length of the room, with several white golf balls scattered about.

But, all of those details were quickly lost, as one item in the room was out of place. Or rather, one person.

Mayor Manx was sitting in a chair, his arms and legs bound by rope, his mouth stuffed with a cloth gag. His eyes were filled with panic.

Commander Feral began to approach the tied-up mayor, but stopped as an unfamiliar voice called out.

"Callie!" a woman shouted, which made Felina jump.

She was in her late 20s, with a thin-build, a brunette with shoulder-length hair, thin-rimmed glasses, and wearing a white blouse and pencil skirt. She had popped up from behind the mayor's desk.

"Erin!" Callie returned.

"Who did this?" Feral asked, ushering her with his free hand to come forward.

The woman cautiously came forward, looking hesitant. But, there was something familiar about her. She stood at the same height as Felina, and she was wearing flats, not heels.

"Well, I did," Erin said.

Commander Feral blinked in surprise at the statement, and before he could react further, he was on the ground, his forehead colliding loudly with a decorative wood stand, which caused several leather-bound books to fall down.

He had been sent to the floor with a textbook wrist lock takedown by Erin, who had quickly transitioned the movement to take his sidearm, which was she was now pointing at Felina.

Felina felt her pulse quicken at the unexpected display, tightening her grip on the Glock 36 which she raised in return. The commander wasn't moving. The blow to his head had knocked him unconscious, or maybe worse. Felina couldn't tell.

The shoulder-length hair was gone. It was lying on the floor, revealed to be a wig, along with the glasses. In its place was the familiar short blonde haircut combined with a menacingly icy expression.

_It's her. So, that's the "errand" she's been doing for Turmoil._

"Captain Elizaveta," Felina said through gritted teeth, involuntarily tonguing the area in the back of her mouth where her missing molar would've been. "So, that's how Turmoil's been getting her information, huh? A spy in the Mayor's Office?"

In the background Callie gasped.

"Among others, yes," Elizaveta replied, her voice no longer filled with the faked innocent terror. She held the commandeered Glock 17 in a perfect combat stance, the barrel pointed directly at Felina's face.

"So, now what?" Felina asked.

"Now, Commander Turmoil takes over this city," Elizaveta explained. "She'd wanted to do it with kindness, but as you saw, they weren't interested. So now, she'll do it with force."

As if to exacerbate the point, the sound of jet engines and explosions could be heard in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, through the massive window of the mayor's office, Felina could see the makings of an aerial war going on above the city.

"What's going to become of them?" Felina asked, glancing toward the tied-up Mayor.

"The mayor, the Enforcer commander, and the deputy mayor are to be captured and tried for their failure to help the city," Elizaveta said. "In all likelihood, they'll be hanged in the public square for all to see."

"Tried for our failure to help the city?" Callie scoffed. "You make it sound like you guys are some kind of invading force for good."

"But aren't we?" Elizaveta asked. "Your people are in the streets out of work. Your public assistance programs are overtaxed and on the verge of collapse. Bridges and roads are falling apart. Crime is at record highs. Your former political allies are in the streets protesting against you. Your first-responders are slow to respond to anything important. The budget is nowhere close to being balanced. I've worked under you for months now, Ms. Briggs. Don't pretend you can tell me I'm wrong."

Callie frowned, and pointed toward the window.

"And this is how you propose to solve it?" Callie asked.

An Enforcer Chopper fell into view, on fire as it plummeted helplessly downward.

Felina grimaced, knowing full well that someone she knew had just died.

"There is no painless solution to all of this," Captain Elizaveta said. "At least this way it will be over soon, instead of several more years of suffering."

"You know I can't let you do that," Felina said, her grip on the gun making her palms perspire.

"I know," Elizaveta said, sincere disappointment in her voice. "I told Commander Turmoil that you'd never join us. But, she wanted to be sure. It's a shame, because I think you'd have thrived with us."

Felina's eyes narrowed, and in the same motion she pulled the trigger of her Glock 36 while diving to the right.

Elizaveta apparently had the same idea, pulling her trigger as well, diving in the opposite direction.

Callie shrieked at the gunfire and fell to her knees, scrambling to get a safe distance away.

Felina rolled to her stomach when she hit the ground, taking aim awkwardly from the prone position, and fired several more times at the area she suspected Elizaveta to be in. Several shelved books exploded into papery splinters as the Spetzkatz soldier dove behind the Mayor's antique desk, firing several rounds from her firearm as she did so. The massive glass window above and behind Felina was punctured by several of the rounds, causing a few panes to shatter and rain down on the lush carpet. Felina covered her head out of instinct.

The exchange had lasted only seconds, and as Felina collected herself on the floor, she realized she was unharmed. From her position, she could see Mayor Manx had fallen over. Whether it was deliberate or not, she didn't know, but he was doing his best to try to scoot away toward a beckoning Callie Briggs who'd managed to make it farther down the room.

"You and I think alike," Elizaveta called out. "Though, I think that today, you didn't bring the right weapon."

Felina frowned, and then glanced at the black, polymer pistol in her hand. The slide was locked back. She had fired all seven rounds.

_Dammit…_

Felina knew the captured weapon Elizaveta had taken from the unconscious Commander Feral had a 17 round magazine, and Felina was certain that her foe hadn't fired 17 times.

Elizaveta stood up from behind the desk, the handgun held up professionally.

Felina sighed, having no choice being in clear line-of-fire. She left her gun on the floor and slowly got to her feet, hands raised in surrender.

It was at that moment that the doors to the mayor's office burst open, and several female soldiers came inside, their rifles held at the ready. Turmoil entered with them, casting a look of disdain toward Callie Briggs who was trying to untie Mayor Manx. The soldiers quickly moved over to them, forcibly standing them up, others keeping their weapons trained on them. Another pair hefted up the still unmoving Commander Feral and began to drag him out of the room.

T-Bone was not among them.

Seeing the reinforcements, Elizaveta lowered the Glock 17.

"I see you've kept the enemy in-check," Turmoil said.

"Yes," Elizaveta replied. "Though this one tried to interfere."

Turmoil looked at Felina.

"Well, Ms. Feral," Turmoil said, a look of curiosity on her face. "We've learned a lot about each other these past few days, no doubt. You've seen what I'm capable of, and what I can offer you, and vice versa."

Turmoil stepped up to Felina, and once again placed a hand on her shoulder. Felina lowered her raised hands, letting them drop to her sides.

"I'll make this clear," Turmoil said. "I want you to join me. The new order in Megakat City will need someone like you."

Felina was surprised that despite her actions of just a few minutes ago that this offer was being made. She recalled her earlier realizations that had been interrupted by the chaos of the crowd, as another matter came to mind.

_Dark Kat's dead._

She hadn't had time to process that amid the confusion. Turmoil had drawn her sidearm and executed him in front of everyone.

_Did he deserve that and more? Probably. But was that the right thing to do? Was that any sort of justice?_

Felina frowned, knowing that if that was a sign of what things were to come in this "new order," she wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of it. Especially if Elizaveta's earlier claims about what was to happen to her uncle, Callie Briggs and Mayor Manx were true.

Felina had to admit, the more she had learned about Turmoil, the more she had grown to like her. That steadfast confidence was alluring, and her methods, while extreme, did seem to get results. But, were those means to ends ones that Felina could live with?

Felina recalled her final altercation with Captain Ritz the previous year. He was a man she'd grown to despise even more than Dark Kat, because despite her dislike of the former CAG, she'd at least trusted him as a fellow Enforcer. If there was ever anyone who deserved to have a bullet put in him, it was Ritz, Felina knew. But, could she have killed Ritz just as casually as Turmoil had killed Dark Kat?

She already knew the answer to that question, as she remembered the nickel-plated M1911A1 she had gripped in her hands back at Megakat Caverns State Park.

_I had Ritz dead-to-rights. Had the gun in my hand, aimed right at his unconscious body. I could've killed him. No witnesses. Made up any story I wanted to. No one would've known…_

But Felina knew that wasn't true. She'd know.

And here and now, Turmoil was leading a full-out assault against the city. Her fellow Enforcers were caught in the cross-fire at this very moment.

Someone like Ritz would throw his fellow Enforcers to the wolves. Felina had her problems with the institution, the failings of the Mayor's office, and her treatment in the force. But ultimately, they were _her_ problems. No one else had to suffer the consequences for them.

Felina reached up with her left hand and slowly placed it over Turmoil's that was on her shoulder. The room had gotten very quiet, the only noise the whistle of wind through the partially shattered window. Felina gently lifted Turmoil's hand away from her shoulder.

Turmoil frowned at the action.

"I can't," Felina said, and her eyes briefly met with Callie Briggs's.

Felina knew the deputy mayor was tougher than she looked, which at the moment suggested she was pretty tough indeed. Callie's composure remained indignant, even while surrounded by soldiers pointing rifles at her. Though, some of that toughness slipped away when Felina answered Turmoil's proposition. It was a softened expression.

_Is that a look of pride? Maybe approval? Probably concern. Or all of the above?_

"I am disappointed, Ms. Feral," Turmoil said, and turned away. Over her shoulder she shouted something in another language at Elizaveta though Felina had no trouble understanding.

_Well, Callie, looks like this is the end._

Elizaveta walked forward, once again bringing the Glock 17 to bear, pointing it at Felina's forehead. Unsettlingly, she realized she could see the rifling of the barrel in great detail at that distance.

"No!" Callie shouted, as she unexpectedly shoved forward. The other soldiers' attention had waned, their eyes on Felina, and the deputy mayor had taken advantage. The soldier she collided with had demonstrated poor trigger discipline, and several rounds of automatic gunfire ripped through the walls, narrowly missing Mayor Manx and the other female soldiers. It was just enough of a distraction to cause Elizaveta to glance back.

Felina didn't hesitate as she rushed forward and grabbed at the Glock 17 with both hands, shoving it down and to the side while rotating her body and driving her back into Elizaveta's front. It was the same move the Spetzkatz paratrooper had used on her days earlier, and Felina briefly wondered if she appreciated the irony. The sidearm was torn from Elizaveta's grasp and it went flying across the room, landing harmlessly out of reach.

Out of the corner of her eye, Felina noticed that Callie Briggs was being converged on by the soldiers, and they quickly subdued her. She didn't get to see exactly how, as Elizaveta now had her full attention. The paratrooper had broken away, and was now again in a fighting stance, with both fists brought up.

Felina was tempted to do the same, but the odds were not in her favor, as the temporary chaos in the room began to end. The soldiers behind Elizaveta were raising their rifles, and beginning to take aim at Felina.

_There's nowhere to run…_

And then she heard a noise from behind. The wind in the window. Without thinking, she turned and threw her shoulder into it. Already weakened by the earlier gunfire, it easily gave way.

As she fell through it, she instantly regretted having done so, as 80 stories below Main Street was rushing up at her. She couldn't help but recall Technical Sergeant Thurman's safety speech warning about falling off the flight deck.

The rapid descent abruptly stopped, and Felina felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, her right deltoid burning. Out of reflex, she'd reached out to grab at something, anything, and her hand had caught the edge of a ledge. She looked up and saw the window she had crashed out of, and realized she had only fallen about one-and-a-half stories. Her fingertips gripped onto the ledge, shaking with stress.

It was a one-in-a-million feat.

With great effort, she reached up with her other hand and grasped the ledge, steadying herself. Hanging there, dangling 79 floors above a variety of hard concrete surfaces that seemed ready to greet her, she took a moment to breathe.

During QRF training at Camp Wirehair, when there was downtime, there wasn't much to do. This caused several of the trainees to develop ways to entertain themselves. A lot of times these methods of entertainment had a competitive element to them.

Who could do the most push-ups, or who could handstand-walk the farthest, or who could eat the most hardboiled eggs. One particular activity included seeing how long someone could hang from a pull-up bar while others threw objects, usually footballs, at them. Felina had lasted 45 seconds under those conditions.

And now, hanging by her fingertips, knowing that it would be certain death if she lost her grasp, she tried to force herself to calm down.

_I can hang here for a minute or two. Now, think. How am I going to-_

There was a loud cracking noise, and the ledge buckled. The sections Felina had been grasping crumbled. Her eyes went wide as she lost her grip, briefly suspecting that the City Hall building's decaying state due to budgetary problems was likely behind this.

Felina had taken great effort to train her body to ignore the panic often induced by the feeling of falling, as rapid aerial descents had become a daily occurrence in her work environment as a fighter pilot. But, all of that seemed to dissolve, as she couldn't help but let out a scream. The rows of City Hall's windows were passing by at increasing speed, floor after floor, the street below growing larger, and larger.

Felina closed her eyes, knowing that she'd be dead in seconds.

There was a collision, and it knocked the wind out of her. But, it didn't come from below, but from the side. Felina forced herself to open her eyes and found herself in the arms of T-Bone. He was gritting his teeth in concentration.

The SWAT Kat had swung down from above using that grappling device on his Glovatrix. He'd done so in a wide arc that helped to negate Felina's fall and turn the momentum to the side. They were now swinging together laterally. He detached the line at just the right moment as they swung over the rooftop of a smaller building.

Felina felt herself fall again, landing hard in a mixture of sliding and rolling, her body dragging a trail along the aged rooftop asphalt particles. Both of them came to an abrupt stop as they collided loudly with a metal air conditioning unit.

Felina sat up slowly, feeling pain throughout her body, but was amazed to find that nothing appeared to be broken.

Nearby, T-Bone groaned as he rubbed his head. He was still wearing the military-style fatigues that Turmoil had provided, the only sign he was a SWAT Kat being the mask and Glovatrix.

Felina forced herself to her feet, and reached down, offering her hand.

"Thanks," she said.

"Anytime," T-Bone replied, and he took her hand, standing up.

They stood there, for a moment, sizing each other up. Felina was still coming to grips with the fact she was still alive, thanks to the guy in front of her.

"I got separated when things went crazy back there," T-Bone explained. "Figured they'd go after Callie, but they got in the building first. Tried to make my way up there from the outside, but then I saw you go flying out the window of the mayor's office."

"Yeah," Felina said, her pulse still throbbing in her temples. "They got her, Manx and my uncle."

"Dead?" T-Bone asked, his voice filled with dread.

"No, not yet," Felina said. "But they're gonna. We have to-"

T-Bone's shoulder exploded in a crimson mist as his body spun around and he fell down, landing face-first on the rooftop's asphalt. A split-second later, a gunshot could be heard, its loud distinctive boom echoing among the nearby skyscrapers.

Felina's training took over as she dove for cover, baseball sliding on her stomach to get behind the air-conditioning unit. Several impacts scored the area of the rooftop she'd just been standing on, the noise of the gunshots following shortly thereafter. Felina had seen the muzzle flash as she'd dove for cover. It came from high above, out the broken window of the mayor's office 80 stories up. Even at that distance, Felina could tell it was Captain Elizaveta taking the shots.

Felina peered around the unit, and could see T-Bone roll over onto his back and grasp at his shoulder. He was coughing direly.

"Well, that's what I get for not keeping my head down," T-Bone said with morbid amusement.

"You okay?" Felina called out despite knowing the answer.

"Nope," T-Bone said with a cough.

"Just stay down and I'll see if I can-," Felina began.

"No!" T-Bone shouted. "That's just what they want you to do. You need to get out of here!"

"I can't leave you behind!" Felina said.

"Well, you're gonna have to," T-Bone said. "I'm outta the game."

Felina's eyes narrowed as she took in T-Bone's injuries, and then she looked away. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. There was nothing she could do for him now. Not without winding up just like him, or worse.

"I'm sorry," Felina said.

"Well, you can make it up to me by stopping her," T-Bone said, his voice sounding weaker. "Find Jake. He'll know what to do."

"I will," Felina promised as she got to her feet, staying crouched down low.

Behind her there was a fire escape ladder with rails that curved up and over the edge of the rooftop. She carefully made her way over to it, risking one last look toward T-Bone. The SWAT Kat was not moving, the area around him now colored red. Felina couldn't tell if he'd stopped breathing.

In a brisk motion, she brought herself up and over, grasping the ladder's rails, as she disappeared over the side.


	20. Chapter 19

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 19**

The nighttime sky of Megakat City glowed a menacing reddish-orange as several fires burned out of control, creating a foreboding smoky atmosphere in the rear-view mirror of Callie Briggs's sedan. After exiting from the roof of the building near City Hall, Felina had hurriedly made her way to the adjacent parking garage. The car was where she had expected it to be, parked in a reserved spot labeled DEPUTY MAYOR. Felina knew that Callie kept a spare key hidden underneath the rear license plate, which had made departure from the area relatively quick and easy.

_Well, if you don't count dodging flaming debris that had been falling out of the sky and onto the street._

It had been over thirty minutes since Felina had seen any aircraft in the sky. Whatever conflict that had been occurring was over, and she was fairly certain the Enforcers hadn't won.

Now Felina was speeding down Highway 50, questioning whether or not she was making the right choice.

It was standard procedure during a city-wide crisis for all Enforcers to immediately report to their assigned locations. Felina was certain there was little good she could do at Precinct 58, especially with Sergeant Daniels in charge there.

_This situation is way outside his ability to understand, let alone handle._

Felina frowned at the thought, realizing it was likely outside hers and anyone else's too.

Felina had made a troubling observation as she had hastily driven down numerous side-streets, trying her best to stay out of sight. It was that there were no other Enforcers to be seen. Felina wasn't sure what that meant. She had turned on the sedan's radio, only to find that every station was filled with static.

_It's not a coincidence. All of this was planned. Turmoil had Captain Elizaveta in the Mayor's Office; who knows who else she had elsewhere?_

It was a disturbing thought, made more worrying by the fact that Commander Feral was taken captive, meaning that if Turmoil had any moles in the Enforcers, they were now more free to take action.

The tires of the sedan screeched momentarily before they dug into the dirt path as Felina took a hard left, pulling rapidly into the parking area of Jake and Chance's Garage. She'd been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn't bothered to take in the acres of salvaged aircraft that led up to this point.

She opened the door and exited, not bothering to close it behind her as she walked briskly toward the entrance of the garage. The large hole in the ground was still present, but something else seemed off. She quickly realized that things were in a worse state of disrepair, with small arms bullet holes in the walls, and several brass shell casings scattered on the ground.

"Oh no," Felina couldn't help but say out loud as she charged forward and burst through the customer entrance door.

The interior of the garage was ransacked. Tool boxes overturned, wrenches, screwdrivers and sockets strewn about. The light fixtures were knocked off the ceiling. The kitchen was a mess, all of the cabinets opened. Broken glass littered nearly everything, and as Felina walked she kicked several more of the spent casings, which seemed to clink loudly in the dead silent interior. Light from the outside came in small beams through the numerous bullet holes in the walls and ceiling, casting everything in an unsettling glow.

"Jake!" Felina called out, and began to frantically search. She found the same scene upstairs, and doubled back, remembering the secret trap door. It was already opened, and she made her way down each embedded ladder rung.

As she reached the bottom, she noticed her hands covered in a sticky red substance.

It was blood. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the ladder rungs had been covered in it.

"Come back to finish the job?" a raspy voice asked.

Felina frowned, and saw in the corner next to a shot-up workbench was Jake Clawson, sitting on the floor, his back propped against the concrete wall. He'd fashioned a makeshift compress out of several shop-rags and was holding it against his abdomen with one hand. In the other, he was half-heartedly holding up a wrench defensively.

Felina held back her apprehension at the sight as she walked over and knelt down to get a better look at him.

"Not exactly," Felina said.

"Oh, it's you," Jake said, and lowered the wrench. "Not ashamed to say I've gotten a little jumpy whenever I see a female silhouette now."

"Can't blame you," Felina said. "How many?"

"At least 20 of them, all heavily armed," Jake said. "Showed up knocking at the front door, just after our last chat. They were content to leave me like this."

Felina frowned, noting that was at least 24 hours ago.

_It's a miracle he's still alive._

"We need to get you to a hospital," Felina said as she stood up and glanced around. "You got a phone down here?"

"Tried that already. All the lines are dead," Jake said. "And there's something blocking radio transmissions. Pretty sure it's her."

"I was afraid of that," Felina said, and then knelt down again. "You'll probably die if I move you."

"Well, I'm guarantied to die if I stay here," Jake replied, forcing a smile.

* * *

Felina sat in the brightly lit waiting room of Megakat Memorial Hospital. Several other people were sitting in seats arranged about, all of them with somber expressions. Felina had discarded her blood soaked hooded-sweatshirt in a garbage can once she'd managed to safely pass Jake off to the orderlies who'd rushed him to the emergency room. The blood had been Jake's. By the time she'd managed to carry him into Callie's Sedan and drive back into the city's limits, he'd passed out.

She'd anticipated the usual questions related to gunshot wounds, but they were few.

"Oh great, another one from Main Street?" the orderly had assumed, and Felina had just nodded in response.

It seemed that a lot of bystanders had been caught in the crossfire, and now found themselves patients here.

Mounted high on the wall of the waiting area a television was turned on, though it displayed nothing but noiseless static. Felina was feeling antsy, and tapped her foot impatiently. She'd been here for what seemed like hours, and while she understood how busy the hospital staff likely was, she still wanted to know if Jake had survived.

_And he's not the only one, either._

Felina had been trying hard not to think about Chance Furlong. The last she'd seen of him didn't suggest that he'd live to see another day. The fact that she'd run away wasn't helping much, either.

_I should've stayed behind with him. But, he told me to go. That's just an excuse to let yourself off the hook._

She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to jostle the thoughts out of her mind. She stood up and started walking down the hall, the few nurses nearby too focused on their tasks to notice her. As she walked down the hall, she could see a number of patients through open doors lying in hospital beds, sporting all the tell-tale signs of battlefield injuries.

Numerous regrets began to well up like the back-flow of a clogged toilet, making her start to feel physically ill.

_How many opportunities did I have to stop all of this?_

Felina recalled the Glock 36 she'd had on her person all the times she had been left alone with Turmoil. From their first official encounter in her apartment, to their journey together in Turbokat One, to their numerous meetings in Turmoil's cabin, and even during the last trek toward the lair of defeated Dark Kat.

_There wouldn't have been anything physically difficult about it. Just take out the gun, aim and pull the trigger. That's it. So many chances to have prevented all of this, yet I didn't. Why?_

Was it cowardice? Did she fear the repercussions of Turmoil's soldiers while aboard the _Balikirev_? Felina didn't think so. In fact, she thought of several scenarios in which escape would've been possible, even likely.

_I didn't shoot her because I thought I couldn't get away with it. I didn't shoot her because I… respected her._

Even now, with Chance Furlong's and Jake Clawson's fates uncertain, and a city in conflict where her fellow Enforcers were getting hurt and killed, with Callie Briggs, her uncle and the mayor captured, Felina still felt that respect. It was not a trifle task to bring the city to its knees, and it seemed that Turmoil was accomplishing just that.

But now, that respect was mixed with something else. Something she'd been denying. Something she'd been feeling in the back of her mind ever since Captain Elizaveta exited that stolen truck wearing a _Telnyashka, _the striped shirt of the Spetzkatz_. _That feeling was fear.

As Felina walked down the corridor of the hospital, she could see the staff avoiding eye-contact. She could tell they were feeling the same fear.

Felina began to peer into open doors along the hall, checking to see if any of them contained Jake Clawson, who should've been out of the emergency room by now.

_Assuming of course he didn't die._

Felina felt her throat tighten at the thought. She knew that Jake, being a former Enforcer himself, and a SWAT Kat, was no lightweight. She knew he was tough. He had to be, else he'd have died long ago, considering the foes the SWAT Kats faced. But, she had peeked behind the curtain, and gotten a glimpse of the two as they really were. Jake had given her a behind-the-scenes look at the vigilante duo, a view witnessed by few. They seemed so much more vulnerable from that perspective.

Unfortunately, Turmoil had also glimpsed behind that curtain, and had no doubt made the same observations, which only added to Felina's unease.

_She really did take us all apart, piece-by-piece, and reassemble us as parts of her plan. _

The only hiccup seemed to come from that union boss, O'Reilly, but even that hadn't stopped things from progressing.

Felina thought about that for a moment more.

_She seemed genuinely surprised and upset by the crowd not taking her side. Maybe she hasn't thought of everything. Maybe she isn't invincible…_

Surely Felina's declination and escape also weren't anticipated. Even if that was the case, what could she do? She was only one person.

Felina ducked her head into another hospital room, and not seeing Jake, began to pull back out, but paused. Sitting upright, with several bandages covering part of her face and her right forearm encased in a cast, was a young girl eating from a cup of green JELL-O with a plastic spork. A television was mounted on the wall, though like others she had seen, it was filled with muted static.

"Oh, hi," the girl said, looking up.

"Hi," Felina replied, and stepped back into the room, recognizing the girl instantly as the one she'd pulled from the burning minivan days ago.

"Want some?" she asked, holding up a second, unopened cup.

Felina's stomach rumbled, and she realized that in all the excitement of the day she hadn't eaten anything.

"Yeah, sure," Felina said, and pulled up a chair next to the bed as she took the cup.

"I like the red kind the best," the girl said as she scooped out a cubic portion that undulated in the eating utensil. "But the green's okay, too."

Felina opened the lid of the disposable container, and not having a spork herself, simply brought it up to her mouth and squeezed the sides. Chunks of the JELL-O fell onto her tongue. It tasted bitter and artificial to her. She briefly chewed it, feeling it turn to liquid as she swallowed. It was better than nothing, she supposed.

"You're the lady who pulled me out of the fire," the girl said.

"That's me," Felina replied.

"Is that your job?" the girl asked inquisitively.

"It's part of it, I guess," Felina said. "How old are you?"

"I'm six-and-a-half," the girl said as she held up fingers on both hands, and Felina couldn't help but notice she struggled to do so with the cast.

"That's almost seven," Felina said, and the girl's face brightened at the remark. "When's your birthday?"

"June 22nd," the girl said.

"What's your name?" Felina asked as she squeezed the remaining JELL-O into her mouth.

"I'm Kaitlin," the girl said. "But everyone calls me Katy."

"Well, Katy, thanks for the snack," Felina said.

"How old are you?" Katy asked.

Felina smiled at the question. It felt strangely foreign on her face, as if she hadn't done so in a long time.

"I just turned thirty last week," Felina said.

Katy held up her hands, fingers extended.

"Yeah, you'll need more fingers than that," Felina said.

"Do you know where my mommy is?" Katy asked.

"Let me see," Felina said as she set her empty JELL-O cup into a nearby receptacle and reached forward to grab at a small stack of charts at the foot of the bed. She flipped though them and found some of the nurse's notes. "Looks like the doctors are still making your mom better."

"Oh," Katy said, her earlier brightness fading.

"Hey," Felina said as she set the charts back down, "Don't worry. She's gonna be fine."

"That big car hit us really hard," Katy said. "Mommy fell out of our car. I haven't seen her."

Felina frowned at Katy's expression. The little girl looked as though she were on the verge of tears. Felina didn't consider herself good with children. She normally felt awkward around them, always afraid she'd say or do something inappropriate that'd offend their parents somehow. But, for some reason, she wasn't feeling that now.

"You know, you've been pretty brave," Felina said as she reached forward and took the girl's hand in hers.

Katy looked down and nodded.

"A lot of things are going on right now," Felina said. "And I guess we all need to be a little brave."

"How?" Katy asked.

Felina chuckled at the question.

"That's a good question," Felina said. "We just have to, I guess."

"Why do you need to be brave?" Katy asked. "You're not afraid of anything."

"What makes you say that?" Felina asked.

"Because I saw your face in the fire," Katy said.

Felina sighed.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I was pretty scared then," Felina said. "But that's what it means to be brave. You can't let your fear stop you. You have to face it, and overcome it."

Katy nodded again, and Felina felt her hand gripped tighter.

"Will you stay here?" Katy asked.

Felina glanced at the wall-mounted analog clock, and saw that it read 23:00 hours. She blinked, surprised that so much time had passed. As if reacting to that realization, her body started to become overcome with tiredness.

"Yeah, I'll stay here," Felina said.

Katy adjusted herself and leaned her head back on a pillow, hanging on tight to Felina's hand.

Felina felt the squeeze, as she too felt herself leaning into her own chair in a more relaxed position. Everything was turning fuzzy, and for a brief moment the troubles of the world seemed to disappear.


	21. Chapter 20

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 20**

"Now this is a look that suits you well," a familiar voice said.

Felina, still wearing the same clothes, found herself once again standing in the Great Hall of Nebelung. Several of the ornate tapestries were smoldering alongside the giant stone columns they hung down from, with evidence of gunfire damage present. There were remnants of a broken barricade in front of the elevated platform the golden throne rested upon. Felina recognized the setting. It was where she had last dreamed being in battle alongside the original Enforcer Corps.

It was easy to recognize, as a lone figure was still resting on the marble floor, amid other dropped weapons. The figure still as a corpse.

Felina was looking at herself lying there, wearing the period clothing waistcoat and trousers. A tri-corner hat with a bullet hole through it was nearby. She was dead.

Felina grimaced and knelt down to one knee to take a closer look at the copy of herself.

"It's too bad I can't take credit," the voice repeated, and Felina recognized it.

"What are you doing in my dreams, Ritz?" Felina asked as she stood up and looked toward the source of the voice.

She felt far more lucid than she had prior, which only added to the surrealism of the situation.

Ritz, with his silver-lensed aviator sunglasses, chevron mustache, and greying buzz-cut hair bordering on spiked looked just as he did the last time Felina had seen him at Megakat Caverns. He was sitting on the throne, and he smiled as he got up and walked down the few carpeted steps. He was sporting a white Enforcer's T-shirt with the logo on the shoulders, along with olive-colored cargo pants and black, combat boots. He approached her, and Felina felt her fists tighten.

"Isn't that a question you should be asking yourself?" Ritz asked and stepped up to her.

Both stood eye-to-eye.

"I guess you're technically right," Felina muttered, and then turned away.

"But, I'm feeling generous, so I'll go ahead and explain," Ritz said. "I'm not really Ritz, but I am a symbol of what it is that's been bothering you."

"Not a very subtle one," Felina said over her shoulder.

"Well, you're not a very subtle person, so what do you expect?" Ritz said, and then gestured at the surroundings. "The Great Hall of Nebelung. In many ways the battle that took place here was the real birthplace of Megakat City."

"Some might say that," Felina said, walking around her copy's unmoving body, putting it between herself and Ritz.

"Because had the Enforcers lost here, then Megakat City would've never asserted itself as a real power, and would've been wracked by pirates or foreign invaders or worse," Ritz continued.

"Those who fought and died here really represented the spirit of both defiance and duty," Ritz said. "The kind of spirit that you've convinced yourself you have."

Felina frowned, not appreciating the tongue-in-cheek analysis.

"Why do you keep imagining this place?" Ritz asked.

"I don't know," Felina replied.

"Well, I do," Ritz said. "It's because you've always wanted to be a part of something bigger than yourself. Something with some notoriety. Gravitas. You think of this place because of its grand place in history and the connection you think it has to you now as a modern Enforcer."

"But, the truth is, you and everyone else in the Enforcers today aren't anything like them," Ritz said scornfully. "What Jonas Spangle did with a handful of men two hundred years ago could never hope to be repeated with the bloated, self-righteous, nepotistic and contradictory institution it's grown into."

"The real Ritz had something similar to say," Felina said. "And his solution was to ally with the enemy and try to kill a lot of people."

"Ironic, isn't it, that you were about to do the same thing?" Ritz asked.

Felina didn't appreciate the comparison, and knew that things were different, though she couldn't deny the similarity.

"I couldn't do it," Felina said, looking down. "Things aren't good, but your way, Turmoil's way, is wrong. I can't ignore that."

"It's too bad you couldn't have had that conviction earlier," Ritz said. "Because just like two hundred years ago, a Balikirev threatens the city, and this time there's no Enforcers who can stop her. Not even former ones."

By former ones Felina knew he was referring to the SWAT Kats, whose involvement in things she didn't fully understand. It didn't make much difference, though, she thought. The end result was still the same. Turmoil had effectively conquered Megakat City in a day.

"This is what happens when a small person gets involved in big things," Ritz said, and gestured to the body on the floor. "It's all you have to look forward to. It's just a matter of time."

Felina paced, and put a hand to her forehead, feeling overwhelmed at Ritz's words. How many times had she almost been killed in the past few days? How long would it be until Turmoil's forces found her? Even if Chance or Jake had managed to survive, how long until they were gunned down permanently?

Felina noticed a white, rectangular light forming behind her, and she glanced at it. It was a door.

"Only way out of all of this is to run," Ritz said. "Because there's not a single thing you can do to help. You're no hero. You've only made things worse. You're just a scared little girl who's been playing soldier her whole life. Only allowed to play along because of her name."

For some reason the words seemed to ring true, and Felina felt herself walking to the door with a defeated gait. She had almost reached the door when her foot brushed across something metallic that clacked against the marble floor. She paused, and looked down to see what it was. As she did, she recalled her thoughts when Callie Briggs had visited her on her birthday.

_In a way, that sword is the only thing I have left to show for all those years of work. They took everything else._

It was a Mameluke sword, and she reached down to pick it up by the hilt.

"Oh, great," Ritz remarked. "You might as well just toss that thing away."

Felina held it in hand, and tilted the blade left and right, seeing what little light there was in the cavernous room reflected along its length.

"Just let it go," Ritz maintained. "It was all meaningless anyway. You can't write a traffic ticket with it."

Felina tightened her grip on the weapon, and let her arm rest at her side, the tip of the blade just an inch from the floor. She spoke over her shoulder.

"You know something, Ritz?" Felina began. "I never liked you."

Before he could respond Felina turned around, leapt over the body that separated them, and brought the sword up in a winding arc, bringing it down like a hammer. His expression was one of genuine surprise as the weapon connected with him where the neck met the shoulder at about 45 degrees.

Ritz began to slump backward. The wound caused by the sword was not bleeding, but instead appeared as some kind of blackness that tore across his front. He was empty. A void. As his body hit the floor he was overcome by the expanding emptiness and disappeared.

"Now what?" a voice asked, and Felina recognized it as her own.

She looked down to see her copy's body sitting up, looking up at her.

"I don't know," Felina replied distantly, not feeling surprised by the corpse suddenly coming to life, and then reached with her free hand.

Her copy took it.

"Thanks for not fighting with me," the copy said.

"I'll try not to do that so much," Felina replied.

* * *

"…the New Order begins today, my friends, once the old has been disposed of," the voice of Turmoil said.

Felina blinked groggily, feeling a pain in her back as she leaned forward to sit upright. Sunlight was coming through one of the hospital room's windows. She had fallen asleep on the chair. She looked to find that Katy was still asleep and clutching her hand. Felina gently pried the fingers away as she stood up. The voice was coming from the television, no longer static filled.

On the screen, Turmoil was standing in front of a podium at the steps of Enforcer Headquarters, with what appeared to be a battalion of her troops standing behind her. Felina recognized the podium as the one her uncle had frequently used to give press interviews from.

"For far too long those guilty of causing this self-inflicted crime have gone unpunished," Turmoil said. "That ends. While it is my intent to make this transition as peaceful as possible, I cannot ignore the wrongs that have been done by these charlatans."

The camera panned to show four individuals tied to the flagpoles that lined the front of the building. Each was gagged, and Felina recognized every one of them.

_Mayor Manx, Commander Feral, Deputy Mayor Briggs…and…T-Bone._

The SWAT Kat was not dead. His wounds appeared to have been treated, with fresh bandages wrapped over his shoulder. But he looked tired and weak, seeming to let the ropes support him rather than stand under his own power. Inexplicably, he still wore the mask.

Felina found the fact that his wounds had been tended to especially unsettling, as Dark Kat had received similar medical treatment upon his capture.

_And look what had happened to him…._

"At sunset, they will face a firing squad," Turmoil said concisely. "I will grant them a quick death. Unlike the prolonged one they've intended for all of you."

Turmoil walked out from behind the podium and paced as she spoke.

"Some of you may think this a cruel action, but I assure you, it is not," Turmoil said. "This city has made a habit of withholding appropriate justice to those who seek to destroy it. Unlike them, I will always be honest with you. As your leader, I will not allow a threat to this city to live. Dark Kat discovered this yesterday. And so too shall they."

Turmoil gestured to her prisoners, all of whom squirmed. Even through the television Felina could see that Callie and her uncle did so with a fury in their eyes.

"Many of you have rallied to the cause," Turmoil said. "And to all of you early adopters, I thank you for your courage. I ask that you do not hold the late-comers in disdain, for they will be needed to help bring about our shining example to the world. The new Megakat City, filled with hope and promise, guided by a steady, unflinching hand. No more crime. No more poverty. No more greed. A whole working toward a greater good. A testament to the will of the people."

It was at that moment Felina felt her anger boil over, as someone came into the camera's view, standing adjacent to the tall self-proclaimed leader of Megakat City, looking as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him.

"The city thanks you, Lt. Commander Steele, for your foresight in agreeing to our terms of cease-fire," Turmoil said cooly as she approached him, a hand extended.

"It was the least I could do," Steele replied, perspiration visible on his brow, as he raised his hand hesitantly to return the shake.

It was obvious that he didn't want to be there, and Felina suspected that in her uncle's absence there had been a failure of leadership. Whether or not Steele was truly working with Turmoil or a victim of circumstance, it was still a sharp blow to Felina's morale.

_No one's going to do anything. They're all just going to stand by._

"So modest," Turmoil said, and then turned to face the camera again. "Eventually all things will fall into place, and you will all look back on this day with fond memories as the first day of a better life. Dark Kat is dead, your debts a $100 billion fewer, and the parasites formerly at the top will soon be stamped out. Yes, remember this day well, for these changes are just the beginning."

The television once again filled with static as the transmission ended.

Felina wondered how long the broadcast had lasted, as she had only caught the tail end of it.

_Cease-fire. That's what she said. _

Things must've gotten really bad if her fellow Enforcers had already thrown in the towel, and then Felina recalled an earlier observation she'd made.

_Turmoil had assembled a capable fighting force that was easily on par with the Megakat City Enforcers. Probably more so if one factored in the capabilities of the six Turbokat copies that had been made and the budget crisis that had taken its toll on defense._

Felina imagined that a few strategically placed insiders, along with some precision attacks and an overwhelming display of force would've been enough. And, from what Felina had seen, Turmoil seemed to be capable of anything.

Outside in the hall, seemingly in response to the televised broadcast, the hospital staff seemed to be hurriedly going about their business. The looks of fear and uncertainty plainly on their faces.

"Is my mommy back yet?" Katy asked groggily from behind, and Felina turned to see her rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"No, not yet," Felina said and then walked over to her, kneeling by the bed. "Katy, remember what I told you about needing to be brave?"

Katy nodded.

"Well, now's the time to be brave," Felina said.

"You sound scared," Katy said.

Felina swallowed, and realized that her hands were shaking, and she quickly pulled them back out of view.

"Well, maybe a little bit," Felina said. "But I need you to just….just be brave. And stay here."

"Where are you going?" Katy asked.

"I have to find someone," Felina said. "A friend I brought here. I need to make sure he's okay."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Katy asked with a bit of childish mischief.

It was so unexpected, and a statement made in such stark contrast to the circumstances that Felina laughed out loud. Katy's face lighted up with amusement as well.

"No, he's not my boyfriend" Felina said. "But, can you keep a secret?"

Katy nodded.

"My friend is the SWAT Kat, Razor," Felina said.

"He is?" Katy asked, sounding amazed. "But the nurse said the scary lady killed them…"

"No, she didn't," Felina said.

_Though not for lack of trying…_

"They're in trouble, though," Felina said. "Razor is here in the hospital, and I need to find him. That's why I have to go now."

Katy nodded again, her earlier fears of abandonment seemingly abated.

"You can help them like you helped me," Katy said.

Felina nodded as she stood up.

"Remember, stay brave," Felina said.


	22. Chapter 21

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 21**

"…is no one going to do anything?" an indistinct voice among many in the hospital's corridors asked.

Despite having uncomfortably slept upright in a chair, Felina felt somewhat well-rested, and pushed through the hallway with a renewed vigor. She approached a busy-looking nurse who was adjusting a stretcher-bound patient's IV-drip administered medication.

"Excuse me, but can you help me find someone?" Felina asked.

The nurse responded impatiently over her shoulder without looking.

"We've got a lot going on right now, miss," the nurse replied. "I don't know if you noticed, but there's a war going on out there."

"I understand that, but…" Felina began as another nurse walked up.

"Carol, I need your help up front," the second nurse said.

"On my way," Carol replied, and met Felina's eyes briefly. "Look, just return to the waiting area and someone will help you out eventually."

The two nurses moved quickly in tandem down the hall. Felina sighed, and leaned against the wall with one outstretched hand while she ran the other through her hair, looking down at the sterile looking tiled floor.

"It's just impossible to get help these days, isn't it?" a familiar voice asked from behind her.

Felina blinked and then turned around.

"Jake?" Felina asked in surprise.

He was sitting in a wheelchair, leaning back slightly, still wearing the dirtied and stained clothes she'd last seen him in, though the top section was cut off, revealing a mass of bandages wrapped around his mid-section. His eyes were glazed over slightly, and his expression seemingly upbeat. An IV-drip was attached to the chair.

"Yep," Jake replied. "And I have to say, this morphine really works wonders."

"Shouldn't you be in a hospital bed or something?" Felina asked.

"I guess there aren't any left," Jake said. "And apparently, my injuries aren't as bad as a lot of others have gotten. Once they got me stable and pumped full of meds, they booted me out of the ER."

"Well, it's good to see you're not dead," Felina said.

"Yeah, not yet, anyway," he replied. "Did you see that broadcast?"

Felina nodded.

"If it's one thing that makes getting shot even better it's waking up to find your city's undergoing a coup, and your best friend is tied to a stake awaiting a firing squad," Jake said with a humorless chuckle.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas?" Felina asked.

"Nope," Jake replied.

Felina sighed and leaned her back against the wall and slid down to the floor in a crouch, resting her forearms on her knees.

"I could've stopped her, Jake," Felina said, echoing her earlier regrets.

The two were silent for several moments, the chatter on the hospital PA system echoing unintelligibly in the background.

"It's too bad this can't be like one of your crazy dreams," Jake said, breaking the silence.

"It's funny you mention that," Felina remarked.

"Have another one?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, except this time it was with Ritz," Felina said.

"Oh yeah?" Jake said. "He still have that stupid mustache?"

Felina smirked and nodded.

"So, he have any pearls or wisdom?" Jake asked.

"He told me I should run," Felina said.

"That's not a bad idea," Jake said. "Though in my current case, it's more like 'roll.'"

He laughed at his statement, and Felina wondered how much morphine the doctors had given him.

"What are our options, Jake?" Felina asked. "I mean, Turmoil's got every base covered."

"She certainly does," Jake said, and raised a hand to scratch his chin in thought. "With those Turbokat duplicates, she has the skies easily dominated. And then there's that fleet of hers in the bay, and her untold amounts of ground forces. She neutralized me and Chance pretty thoroughly, too…"

"If you don't mind me asking, just how thoroughly?" Felina asked.

"She got inside his head," Jake said, pointing at his own temple. "Played on his emotions. He thought he could save her, or something. Truth of the matter is there's nothing to save. Turmoil's not someone in need of rescuing."

"I suppose that'd be an impulse you'd need if you're a super hero," Felina said.

"The SWAT Kats aren't super heroes," Jake said. "We're just a couple of guys upset with the way things went down, wanting to prove to the world we're…" Jake began, his sentences becoming slower and more drawn out, and he blinked as if confused. "What was I talking about?"

"Never mind," Felina said and stood back up, getting behind Jake to push his wheelchair forward.

Felina was starting to feel hopeless once again, as saving Jake Clawson was thus far not proving to help matters.

_He's far too injured and hopped up on pain killers to help me._

"I can push myself, you know," Jake said.

"Just take it easy," Felina said. "Why don't you tell me what happened to you?"

"This?" Jake asked, gesturing at himself. "Well, after Chance disappeared on me, to chase after you I assume, I starting working on getting the E.S.S. up and running."

"E.S.S.?" Felina asked, keeping her attention forward as she wheeled Jake past several individuals in the hallway.

"Emergency scuttling system," Jake said. "It's something I incorporated into the Mk. II version of the Turbokat. Believe it or not, Turmoil isn't the first person to ever steal it."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring," Felina said.

"We take great precautions to keep our weapons and technology as safe as possible," Jake said. "Though, the first time it happened, Hard Drive was able to bypass everything using his Surge Coat to override the security systems. We eventually got it back, but it made me realize I needed to go a step further."

Felina rounded a corner, listening to Jake speak, following the signs that mentioned the directions to the parking lot.

"The Turbokat has an unmanned aircraft system, controllable from a Glovatrix or other computer. I designed it so that it could be accessed from a range of frequencies, including radio transmissions. It'd allow the SWAT Kats to control, and even disable, the Turbokat if it were ever stolen again."

"Then why didn't you use it when Turmoil took it?" Felina asked.

"Well, she kinda destroyed our secret base and everything in it," Jake said. "So that slowed me down significantly, and by the time I had managed to put something together, it wasn't working."

"How so?" Felina asked.

"I was transmitting on the right frequencies, but they weren't being received," Jake explained. "She must've closed off the Turbokat somehow. Maybe set the receivers to only accept certain, encrypted signals."

Felina knew that normally most aircraft kept a range of channels open for communication purposes, and imagined that the Turbokat, with all of its super-advanced instruments, probably had a lot of active and passive systems running at the same time that interacted with any number of radio, satellite and other systems.

_Come to think of it, when I was flying Turbokat One, Turmoil was the one who handled all of the communications. I never touched them…_

Another thought came to mind as she pushed Jake toward the elevators, and pressed the call button.

"Why did Turmoil have to steal the Turbokat?" Felina asked. "I mean, she told me that she'd already constructed the copies after she'd examined it the first time, whatever that means."

"Well, aside from disarming us and embarrassing us," Jake said. "The real Turbokat also has a genuine, completely original operating system that I programmed to work with a hardware-based verification key. "

"Meaning?" Felina asked.

"Meaning that the software that runs the jet won't work if it's running in an environment without the key physically plugged in to the processor," Jake said. "She probably made her copies and discovered they weren't functioning, and determined that a key was needed. I would not be surprised if the real Turbokat is in pieces somewhere, gutted like a fish in her search for the key, so she could make copies of it, too."

"Judging by what I've seen, she succeeded," Felina muttered as the elevator doors opened.

She wheeled Jake inside, and pressed a button labeled P for parking.

"But, that's a good thing, or so I thought," Jake continued. "If the Turbokat copies are operational, that means they're running the same keys, which means that the unmanned aircraft system was copied, too. I was working on trying to modify a transmitter to break though whatever encryption Turmoil put in place, but they must've detected my attempts, because that special forces woman with the red beret showed up at the garage's front door."

"Then what happened?" Felina asked.

"This," Jake said, pointing at his side where he'd been shot. "She was not in a talkative mood."

Felina frowned.

"I assume she destroyed that transmitter?" Felina asked.

"Well, she thinks she did," Jake said with a wry smile, and then reached into his pocket and took what looked to be a credit card-sized logic board with several integrated chips on it. "I saved the board."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, depositing them into a concrete-laden parking garage. Felina wheeled him forward, heading to where she had parked Callie Briggs's sedan.

"So, what good is that?" Felina asked. "You said the signal it sent was refused?"

"It was," Jake said. "But if I could transmit through an _approved_ source, it should function. Theoretically."

"Anyway you could crack whatever encryption she's using before sundown?" Felina asked.

Jake's upbeat mood seemed to deteriorate at the question, and he slumped down in the wheelchair.

"No," Jake said. "Even using a number of super computers, it could takes days, even weeks, and that's assuming she doesn't regularly change the modulation. In that case, it could take forever."

Felina sighed as they reached the sedan. Through the garage's narrow openings along the wall, she could see the sunlight coming in brightly. Morning would be over soon. She knew that every passing second was another one closer to the executions.

_No one's going to do anything while Turmoil has all that superior fire power under her control. Even if a riot spontaneously erupted, she could just pacify everyone in an instant with an airstrike. Just call it in like she did the day before yesterday at Cymric Island when the Turbokat copies took out Dark Kat's forcefield and ground forces._

She paused at the thought, recalling what she had seen while sitting in the Chinook helicopter, watching Turmoil give those orders.

_The earpiece…_

"Jake, you said that thing would work through radio transmissions, right?" Felina asked.

He looked up at her, his expression full of questions.

"Yes, but that won't matter because Turmoil's Turbokats are ignoring outside signals," Jake said.

"But what about a signal that's already going directly to them, using the encryption?" Felina pressed.

Jake scratched his chin in thought.

"I suppose that could work," he said. "But where do we get something like that? Turmoil's not stupid enough to pass out radios like that to her underlings. And, I'm assuming that whatever communications control center is on that carrier is heavily guarded."

"What if I told you Turmoil has an earpiece with an open channel to all the Turbokats?" Felina said.

"Then I'd say that's interesting," Jake said. "But, trying to get ahold of that is suicide. And I'd assume that even if it was stolen, she'd just send out an order to change the encryption."

"That's a good point," Felina said, her earlier enthusiasm at the idea starting to evaporate.

"Unless…" Jake said.

Felina quirked an eyebrow, waiting for Jake to finish his thought.

"Unless you don't actually steal the earpiece," Jake said. "Just get close enough to it so that it can receive an audio signal that in turn gets transmitted to the Turbokats."

"Would that work?" Felina asked.

"At a minimum, all the unmanned system needs to be initiated is a radio signal that contains a set of instructions with the proper pass-codes. The pass-codes are hardwired into the keys and can't be changed easily, so they should still be intact. The signal can be emitted in a high frequency that's above the range of our hearing, but recognizable by the receivers. Because of the nature of the connection, it'd have to be low-bandwidth, low-speed, close-range. But, in theory, it should work."

All of the high-tech terms were making Felina's head hurt, but she felt she was understanding the gist of it.

"How close and how long?" Felina asked.

"No farther than six feet, and for at least five, maybe ten minutes, for it to work," Jake said.

"So, let me get this straight," Felina said, and began to rub the ridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger as she closed her eyes. "Someone, having that gadget you made on their person, needs to be within six feet of Turmoil for ten minutes, so that it can noiselessly send a signal, unbeknownst to Turmoil, through her earpiece, to the Turbokats?"

"Pretty much," Jake said.

Felina groaned, and placed her hand on her forehead.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how someone would go about that," Jake said. "Anyone who tries to get close to her is probably going to get shot. Especially you or me."

"Trust me, I know," Felina said.

Felina pondered the possibilities, and couldn't help but think about what Ritz had said in her dream.

_Only way out of all of this is to run. Because there's not a single thing you can do to help. You're no hero. You've only made things worse. You're just a scared little girl who's been playing soldier her whole life. Only allowed to play along because of her name._

Felina gritted her teeth, knowing that every muscle in her body was telling her to run. To get out of there. Take Jake, throw him in the car, and get as far away as possible. Deep down she knew that Callie, her uncle, Chance and the mayor were already dead. And if she tried to do anything she was just going to wind up a corpse alongside them.

It was insane to think there was anything she could do now to change things.

And then, Felina recalled something else. A piece of advice from an unlikely source.

_"What you call insane, I call being bold," Turmoil said. "It is boldness that gains respect. Boldness that gains attention. Boldness that can achieve things others think impossible._

And then, everything became clear. Felina opened her eyes, her posture changing.

Jake blinked at the change.

"I know how to make this work," Felina said. "But we need to pick up a few things from my apartment first."


	23. Chapter 22

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 22**

Several pillars of smoke rose into the the sky from several fires that burned atop Enforcer Headquarters. From the perspective on the ground, it was difficult to see the full extent of the damage, but Felina imagined the flight deck was likely in ruins. Long shadows from the city's skyline put the streets in a twilit hue, diluted somewhat by the haziness of the smoke in the air. Felina couldn't help but be reminded of the billowing Mt. Dragon Li on Cymric Island, and this setting felt equally ominous.

She walked alone, down the middle of Main Street. There was no traffic, but several piles of of debris from cars and aircraft littered the way. Up ahead, she could see the large steps that led up to the lobby of the building, where several had gathered. From what Felina could see, Callie Briggs, her uncle, Mayor Manx and T-Bone were still restrained to the flagpoles in front of the building. She also couldn't help but notice that the flags bearing the Enforcer's emblem had been taken down. Instead, new colors were flying: black flags with red symbols that looked like two uppercase Ys stacked on top of each other. Felina recognized the markings as the same one on Turmoil's peaked commander's cap. They also bore a striking resemblance to the markings used by the Chartreaux Pirates during Megakat City's colonial times.

Several humvees were parked in a row in front of the building, acting as a barricade. Felina could see Turmoil's female soldiers had set up a waist-high walled perimeter with sandbags. She could clearly see the barrels of M2 Browning machine guns poking over the wall, facing outward.

High above she could see a pair of the Turbokat copies flying in tandem, patrolling the skies, with a third one at rest on the street, behind the established defensive line. Several of the Chinook helicopters were also resting on the streets.

The troops on the ground were on alert, rifles at the ready, at attention at the wall of sandbags. It did not take them long to notice her.

_Being dressed like this probably made it easier._

Felina imagined there had been more recent occasions where she had worn her blue-white dress uniform, but the last she knew of for certain was her graduation from OCS almost ten years ago. Today, the tightly buttoned, pressed waistcoat with large cuffs that covered up almost half her forearms, with a rigid collar grasping her neck, a four-inch wide white belt wrapped snugly across her midsection, white gloves, tight white trousers, and very shiny, black formal shoes made her feel out of place amid what had no doubt been a war zone earlier. On her head, she wore her own peaked cap, with the Enforcer emblem on the front in gold-select, reflecting her former first lieutenant status.

She had not bothered to return the uniform upon her demotion, just as she had not given up the other item that was currently in its scabbard which was attached to her belt. It was the last item that completed the ensemble, and in many ways the most important. It was the Mameluke sword, the symbol of duty, courage and accomplishment.

Turmoil's soldiers looked unimpressed, and brought their rifles up, taking aim.

Felina stiffened, standing upright, her chin held high. It was a stance of attention so rigid it was making her have flashbacks of BCT.

"Just a moment," a voice called out with authority.

The soldiers relaxed their stances and lowered their weapons.

Emerging from behind the soldiers, the vampiric cape flowing behind her, the epaulettes squaring her shoulders, and the peaked cap resting low on her head, Turmoil walked forward. Felina was just now realizing how quiet things were, as each booted step Turmoil took clacked one after the other.

Her expression was difficult to read. Was it surprise? Annoyance? Amusement? Felina couldn't tell. She stood there, unmoving, as Turmoil reached her, and casually circled her. Felina felt as though she were being examined like a mannequin in a department store.

Turmoil came full circle and now stood in front of her, scratching her chin in thought.

"You clean up well, Miss Feral," Turmoil said. "I suppose it's fitting for one to be wearing their best for their own funeral."

Several white flakes began to slowly descend from above, and once again Felina found the drastic difference in weather from the tropical jungle she had been in the day-before-yesterday to be strangely unsettling. After being forced to use a motorcycle in the winter, she had grown to dislike snow, and she didn't view its presence now as a good omen.

"I've come before you today to issue a challenge," Felina said, keeping her attention facing forward.

"Oh?" Turmoil asked, and put a hand on her hip.

Out of the corner of her eye, Felina could see that among the soldiers several reporters were on hand. Their video cameras were now trained in her direction.

_Figures. Turmoil would want the media present for the executions._

"I've come here today," Felina said, speaking louder so that everyone could hear, "to challenge you to a duel."

"Really?" Turmoil asked, and crossed her arms. "And what makes you think I'll accept this challenge?"

Felina swallowed, hoping that it wasn't too noticeable.

_This is it. Time to see if Lt. Durov's story was an exaggeration or not…_

"Because I know that you have a code of honor. An understanding. You appreciate the fighting chance. No matter the opponent," Felina said. "I'm here today as a proud member of the Megakat City Enforcers, to represent the city you have defeated."

Felina chose her words carefully, wanting to elevate the stakes in a dramatic, yet still respectful fashion. Something theatrical that would appeal to Turmoil's eccentricities without offending them.

"This is a very bold move," Turmoil said. "I could snap my fingers and my soldiers would not hesitate to kill you."

To emphasize the point, Turmoil raised up her hand and rubbed her middle-finger and thumb together, as if to tease a snap. The soldiers once again raised their weapons. Felina could feel perspiration starting to form on her brow. She resisted looking down the numerous barrels pointed at her, instead keeping her focus on Turmoil in front of her.

"You could," Felina admitted. "But you won't."

"And why is that?" Turmoil asked.

"Because unlike many today, you appreciate the tradition," Felina said, using her own words against her. "And, I'd like to think that when you approached me, we, too, had an understanding."

Turmoil stood there a few moments, apparently in consideration. Finally, her mouth cracked into a smile.

"You would have fit in quite nicely among us," Turmoil said, and she extended her hand to her side, holding her gloved palm open. The soldiers lowered their rifles.

Captain Elizaveta, now having completely discarded her disguise, emerged from the soldiers wearing her red beret and combat fatigues. In her hands she was carrying a sheathed sword, which she handed to her leader. Turmoil took the sword without looking, as she reached to her neck and unlatched her cape.

It slid free of her shoulders and dropped to the street.

Elizaveta turned to walk away, not making eye-contact. Felina briefly wondered if the loyal subordinate really shared Turmoil's appreciation of theatricality-driven duels, or if she just quietly tolerated them.

Turmoil grasped the hilt of her sword. The same sword she had used to cut off Dark Kat's hand, Felina noted. Megakat City's conqueror grasped the top of the scabbard with her other hand as she slowly drew the blade, the minimal twilight illumination glinting brightly off the sharp weapon.

"Name your stakes," Turmoil said cooly as she held up the blade, dropping the empty scabbard to the ground.

Felina grasped the hilt of her own Mameluke sword and slowly drew it, rolling her wrist to hold it up in similar fashion.

"You don't execute your captives, your forces leave the city, and if you survive, you leave with them," Felina said. "Yours?"

Now Turmoil's smile widened.

"Only one," Turmoil said. "Your life."

Felina swallowed again. Despite the chill air and the fluttering flakes of snow falling around her, a droplet of perspiration ran down the side of her face.

"Agreed," Felina said, and then took a wider stance, her leading foot matching her arm as she raised the blade in an _en guard_ position.

As Turmoil began to take up Felina's entire focus, she couldn't help but look past her toward the four captives. They were less than a football field's length away, and from their slightly elevated positions, able to see everything. Though it was hard to tell at this distance, Felina imagined she could see Callie Briggs mouthing the words "what are you doing?"

And then it came. Movement. Incredibly fast. At the last possible second, Felina brought up her Mameluke sword to block. Turmoil had attempted to strike with a rapid chop. The impact of the blades rattled her wrist, and she lost her footing, fell backward and landed on her back. Felina quickly scrambled back and got to her feet again, ignoring whatever embarrassment she was feeling.

Turmoil did not capitalize on the moments of vulnerability.

"You have good reflexes," Turmoil complimented, her free hand on her hip, sword pointed down to the ground. "A lesser opponent would've been cut in half."

Felina recognized the relaxed stance as the same one Turmoil had taken in her duel with Dark Kat, and began to recall Jake's instructions. It was an invitation to attack.

_Just keep within six feet of her for ten minutes._

Felina could see Turmoil still wearing the earpiece, and the transmitter Jake had given her was tucked inside of her dress uniform's top. Felina had accomplished the first part of her plan: convincing Turmoil to engage in this duel. Now, the second part of the plan was in motion.

_I'm not sure I'm going to last ten minutes against her._

Felina knew she couldn't just stall, as Turmoil would sense that and just end it. While Felina had taken several courses in her QRF training that involved melee and edged weapons, including a multi-week formal fencing class, she knew that Turmoil far outclassed her.

_This had better work, Jake, because if it doesn't I'm as good as dead._

Felina indulged Turmoil's invitation to attack, and moved forward with several quick thrusts.

In an ease exemplified with poise, Turmoil did not even lift her sword as she stepped backward, one step for every thrust Felina tried to drive forward, subtly moving her torso to the left and right. Felina's blade missed by inches each time.

"Good form," Turmoil said. "You've obviously received some training."

Felina didn't respond as she felt herself growing frustrated. When she'd first thought of this plan she couldn't help but entertain the notion of actually defeating Turmoil in a duel. But, the chances of that occurring seemed to grow more remote by the second.

"Since we've established you know how to handle a sword," Turmoil began, and then drew hers up at last to finally block one of Felina's thrusts, stopping her advance dead in its tracks.

Felina's arm protested at the abrupt halt.

"Perhaps we can analyze why you're not doing so well," Turmoil finished, and then with a precision Felina had never before witnessed, flicked her blade at three points along the Mameluke sword. The consecutive strikes provided enough force to jostle the weapon from her grasp and it clattered off to the side noisily.

Felina was disarmed, her hand empty. She glanced down and to the left to see the weapon resting on the pavement, no more than a few feet away. She contemplated diving for it, but before she could move there was an unsettling feeling on her neck. Turmoil had raised her sword and planted the edge of the blade firmly against her jugular. Felina froze, keeping her neck stiff, her eyes wide.

She couldn't help but be reminded of Turmoil doing the same thing in her apartment days prior upon a perceived insult to her ancestor Sergey Balikirev. Now, Felina knew, they were far past insults. The coldness of the steel she felt against her neck was testament to that.

"I'd like to think that it's for the same reason you never used that Glock of yours on me," Turmoil said.

"And what reason would that be?" Felina asked, deciding that stalling with conversation was now an option, particularly as Turmoil could end her life by just pulling the sword back. The sharpness of the edge would be more than adequate to effortlessly saw right through her neck.

"It's because you've never killed anyone," Turmoil said.

"Doesn't mean I couldn't," Felina replied.

"Oh, you're a poster-child for physical excellence, Miss. Feral," Turmoil said. "I have no doubt that if I was not holding this sword to you now, you could break my bones with your bare hands. Likewise, if this was a gunfight, I'd not be surprised if you bested me. And if we were in the skies, your dogfighting abilities would probably be on par as well."

"Thanks for the compliments," Felina muttered, her chest moving in and out with mild exasperation as she tried to awkwardly catch her breath.

"But, despite what you might think, for all your bravado, tough-talk and posturing, you've never killed anyone," Turmoil said. "And ultimately, that's why you're going to lose."

Felina pondered that statement, ignoring for the moment how exactly Turmoil knew that particular fact. Felina had indeed spent years learning a skill set that, despite all the colorful euphemisms many tried to pretty it up with, was ultimately meant to do one thing. And that was to take another's life. It was a cold fact that Felina had never fully come to grips with, and on the few occasions she had been in a position to execute those abilities, the situation had always turned out for the better. Sure, she'd put bullets into her fair share of creatures and monsters. Could probably fill a landfill with those. But when it came to people, well, that was a different story. Secretly, she had always been thankful for that.

In her line of work, and the situations she seemed to be finding herself in more and more frequently, she knew that unfortunate milestone was probably inevitable. Someday, someone wasn't going to give her a choice.

_And from the looks of things right now, that day might be here._

"Had you accepted my offer, we could have helped you work through that," Turmoil said. "Helped you realize your full potential. But instead, here you'll die, because of your own self-imposed limitations."

Felina could see Turmoil's soldiers had formed a weak perimeter around the street, their weapons low but ready. The media was still present, their cameras rolling. Felina could just barely hear Ann Gora in the distance speaking into her microphone.

"…confirmed that this lone individual is in fact former Enforcer lieutenant Felina Feral…" Ann was saying, though the rest was hard to make out.

Felina wondered what Callie Briggs, her uncle, T-Bone and even the mayor made of all this. Felina knew that if it was her tied up there, facing a firing squad, she'd be feeling really frustrated right now, watching this duel unfold and being unable to do anything. Though, it'd also be a nice distraction from the imminent execution, too, she thought.

_A distraction from dying would be nice about now._

Felina felt that her life was a speeding freight train about to reach the end of the tracks, with no working brakes or room to stop. She hadn't felt this resigned even when she was in the mayor's office the day prior, confronted by Captain Elizaveta and being forced to fall out the skyscraper's window.

_Of course, I hadn't had time then to contemplate the severity of the situation either._

Turmoil seemed to be savoring every passing second, cementing Felina's guesses that she enjoyed putting others through as much strife as possible.

"Perhaps you're now realizing a bullet would've been far quicker and less humiliating," Turmoil said. "You'd never know what happened. But, this is the way you've chosen. As an example to others who may rise against the new order, maybe I should let you live a few moments more to witness the deaths of your friends."

Felina's eyes narrowed.

_No more pretenses. No more personal reflections. Just action._

Felina imagined that the most rational move would've been to attempt to withdraw from the blade, moving away from it in the hopes that it'd somehow miss her neck. But, Turmoil would be expecting that. Instead, Felina quickly moved forward, and brought her left forearm up, pushing the sword out and away.

A cold fire raced across the flesh that connected with the edge of the blade, the sleeve of her dress uniform slicing open and turning crimson. The sword had been safely directed away from her neck, and Turmoil's eyes widened in surprise. There was an opening, and Felina took it, continuing the momentum and shouldering into Turmoil. It was a close, awkward attack, but it worked.

Turmoil stumbled at the impact, taking several steps backward, giving Felina enough clearance to reach down and pick up her Mameluke sword, once again raising it.

She winced as she held the weapon at the ready in her right hand, as she started to lose the sensation in her left arm. Felina could barely move the fingers on her left hand as droplets of blood dripped through the finger tips of the formerly white glove.

Turmoil regained her composure, and held her sword up again.

"Well, I suppose that means we're done talking," Turmoil said.

This time, she moved offensively, making several light thrusts and cuts which Felina tried to parry, successfully doing so three of the four times. On the fourth strike, Turmoil's blade sliced across Felina's shoulder, dicing through the insignia, and she couldn't help but let out an involuntary gasp of pain.

Felina began to move laterally as Turmoil matched. Both opponents were now orbiting the other, with Turmoil making light strikes every so often. None of her attacks seemed intended to finish the fight. Instead, they were wearing Felina down, as she narrowly managed to block the thrusts and cuts, though a few managed to penetrate. A minor slash across the abdomen. A light stab in her thigh. Felina's left arm now felt like it wasn't there, and it hung lifelessly. She was now almost completely out of breath, and growing tired. It was a strange and unsettling tired. Her body felt like it wanted to do nothing but stop. Her vision was getting blurry as she began to get lightheaded.

_Must be the blood loss…_

Time was moving slower. What were probably seconds felt much longer. And yet, somehow, she was managing to keep defending. Bringing the sword up to parry, then attempt to strike herself, only to be frustratingly blocked. Felina had a height advantage, and a greater reach, but it didn't seem to be helping. Thus far, her Mameluke sword hadn't done any damage to her opponent.

Felina felt her stamina waning, and with a last exasperation that was more a desperate grunt than a shout, she successfully parried and then lunged forward, putting the remainder of her energy into it. Turmoil had forced her into a corner, both physically and mentally, and now it was time. Time to take that extra step against someone who wasn't giving her a choice. Felina thrust the blade with no illusions about what she was trying to do.

_I'm going to take your life._

Turmoil seemed caught off-guard by the burst of energy, her expression of smug confidence evaporating. The tip of the Mameluke sword headed straight for her gut. Felina drove it with all of her remaining strength.

The blade penetrated.

And then, it kept going with a tearing sound as Felina found herself falling forward. At the last possible moment, in the ballerina-like movement she had demonstrated in her duel with Dark Kat, Turmoil had spun on her heel. Felina's Mameluke sword had still struck her, though it had done so non-fatally, instead skimming across her side and through her uniform. Turmoil's midriff was now exposed, with a large gash going across the side, just above her hip. Turmoil staggered back, her free hand grasping at the wound, unable to hide her surprise.

Felina couldn't help but smile at that, and kept moving forward, exhausted and unable to stop her momentum as she collapsed to the ground on her hands and knees. The blurriness was reaching from the edges and into the center of her vision.

Turmoil staggered forward, doing her best to hide the pain in her voice.

"I have to hand it to you," Turmoil said as she approached Felina and stomped on her right hand.

Felina shouted out in pain and lost her grip on the hilt of her Mameluke sword as Turmoil kicked it away. It skidded a short distance across the street, offsetting some of the accumulated snow.

Turmoil let go of her side, stood in front of the kneeled Felina and reached forward, grabbing tightly onto her black hair, knocking the dress uniform's peaked cap off her head. For the briefest of moments Felina wondered how it had managed to stay atop her head this entire time.

"It's be a long time since I've felt someone else's blade," Turmoil said, and pulled upwards, forcing Felina to look up. With her other hand, Turmoil placed the tip of her sword against Felina's chest. In one quick motion Turmoil could skewer her through the heart.

Felina had nothing left to say. Sunset had come and gone, the skies above still glowing with snow-clouds and the smoke from fires. White flakes continued to flutter down.

She had given it her all, and the best she'd managed to do was delay the inevitable. At best give some people a few extra minutes before they'd be shot dead.

_Delay…delay…why does that feel like that means something?_

"Goodbye, Miss Feral," Turmoil said, and Felina could feel the tip of the sword slowly start to poke into her chest through her clothes.

Just as Felina was starting to feel the prick of her flesh being cut into, Turmoil stopped, and drew back, her free hand going to her earpiece. Felina could just barely make out what sounded like a panicked voice shouting through the tiny device's speaker as she fell backward at Turmoil's release. Felina managed to prop herself upright on her right elbow.

"Say again, Balikirev actual," Turmoil said out loud, seemingly forgetting that Felina was even there.

She paused, listening for a response, and her expression became alarmed as her eyes began to look up. Earlier the Turbokat copies had been flying in tandem patrols over the Megakat City skyline. They were still there, but now, they were abruptly changing course. Even from this distance with the lowered visibility of nighttime, Felina could see multiple contrails going out from the Turbokats, with an orange, cigarette glow leading each.

_Missiles…_

The contrails streaked out, too many to count, all of them headed in the same direction due east, disappearing behind the tall buildings of downtown. Muffled explosions echoed through the night sky. Felina recognized the direction as Megakat Bay, near the docks.

_Razor did it…_

Another loud shout could be heard from Turmoil's earpiece, which abruptly cutoff and became silent.

"Balikirev actual, respond!" Turmoil said, now shouting into her wrist.

Felina could see Turmoil's soldiers glance at one another. Their earlier stoic appearance was starting to be replaced with expressions of concern. Behind them, the Turbokat that had been parked on the street came to life on its own, unpiloted. Its engines roared as it climbed vertically, catching them off guard and sending many flying back from the exhaust. Some of the settled snow near Felina was kicked up as well, and she drew up her only working hand to cover her eyes, rolling to her side as she did so.

Turmoil scowled, her full attention seemingly on the rising aircraft.

The Turbokat copy climbed high up above, and then hovered in place. It began to rotate mid-air. Moments later, Felina could see it deploy what looked to be its entire payload of air-to-air ordnance. The contrails of the missiles streaked in all directions.

_Wait, not all directions._

The missiles streaked out in deliberate pairs, and soon found their targets: the other Turbokat copies. At the last possible second, each of the doomed jets' pilots ejected as their respective aircraft were engulfed in explosions, brightly illuminating their parachutes. Felina counted eight distinct fireballs in the night sky.

The last remaining Turbokat that had initiated the attack on the others swooped back down, still in its vertical flying mode, and hovered above the streets at about 25 feet, facing Turmoil's soldiers. Though it was hard to explain how, Felina imagined it to be an aggressive posture.

The soldiers did not hesitate as they brought their rifles up and opened fire. The emplaced .50 caliber machine guns also came to life. The report of the gunfire was terribly loud, and the high-rises added to the noise with a rancorous echo. The muzzle flashes were almost blinding, and out of reflex, Felina ducked down as far as she could on the street, her chin on the pavement, ignoring the protest her body's wounds made.

Turmoil did not take cover, and stood defiantly, watching as the rounds pelted off the rogue jet in bright sparks. Perhaps if the volley had been sustained, Turmoil's troops may have had a chance of downing the aircraft. But they did not have the opportunity to find out, as a panel slid open on the jet's fuselage, and a rotary-cannon moved out on a telescoping arm. It roared to life, and began to shoot at Turmoil's troops with an impressive rate of fire.

One by one, most were mowed down by the rogue jet. Felina winced as each soldier was hit, and either went flying back or fell to the ground unmoving. At least a hundred personnel down. Felina grimaced at the scene, but quickly noticed something strange. For a massacre of that scale, there was no horrific scene to be found. No missing limbs or crimson stains. In fact, there was something else present. A gray substance that had splattered in various places, and that was when Felina remembered.

_That cannon's shooting cement._

Nearly all of Turmoil's troops had been disabled by the Turbokat's cement machine gun. Felina emphasized the word "nearly" in her mind, as she saw it had missed one in particular, the red beret still atop her head.

Captain Elizaveta emerged from cover, behind one of the parked humvees, and produced a large, shouldered-fired weapon. Felina recognized it as a recoilless rifle, with at least an 84mm bore. Probably a _Carl Gustav_. Elizaveta loaded what looked to be a baseball bat-sized HEAT round into the weapon, and then took aim. Normally, shooting that type of weapon at an aircraft would be pointless, Felina thought, but at that range…

Elizaveta fired, the rocket exhaust shooting out the back of the weapon as the explosive projectile zoomed upwards. In an instant, the left engine of the Turbokat exploded into flames and the aircraft tilted at an angle. It went out of control, swerved down the street and exploded in a fireball. Felina closed her eyes as she felt small pieces of debris fall around her.

When she opened them again, she saw the thin layer of snow on the street had melted from the heat. And, it wasn't the only thing she saw. Elizaveta had made her way over to Felina, and was now in the process of drawing her sidearm from its holster.

Nearby, Turmoil still had her back turned, ignoring what her underling was doing, distracted by the uninvited destruction that had been wrought to her forces.

Elizaveta's Stechkin pistol looked large and menacing as she held it steadily with both hands, and took aim, pointing the muzzle down directly at Felina. She pulled the hammer back with her thumb, and it clicked loudly into place.

On the ground, at that range, there was nothing Felina could do.

"I guess we found out who's better," Elizaveta said, with just the hint of a smirk on her cold face.

Felina stared up, determined not to close her eyes.

_Bang. _

Felina involuntarily jumped at the noise, her nerves rattled. But, much to her surprise, she was still alive. She looked past the barrel of the gun that was pointed in her face, and saw that Elizaveta's smirk had disappeared. The red beret fell off her head as Turmoil's lead soldier collapsed to the ground unmoving. The pistol she had been holding clattered on the pavement.

Elizaveta was dead.

Felina blinked, and then sat upright, glancing to the left and then the right, trying to see where the shot had come from. Down the street, on the other side of the sandbag barricade, at the steps of Enforcer Headquarters, were the restrained prisoners. They were still tied to the flagpoles. Though, she only counted three.

T-Bone had managed to get free from his restraints, and Felina saw him standing at the halfway point of the steps. He was holding up what looked to be an AK-74, one of the rifles Turmoil's soldiers had probably lost when the Turbokat attacked them. There was just a hint of smoke coming from the barrel. From his expression, he was doing so rather painfully, and he dropped it to the ground, grabbing at his still injured shoulder with his other hand.

_Nice shot…_

Felina groaned as she forced herself to get to her feet, grabbing at the dropped Stechkin with her right hand. She limped forward and raised the weapon up.

Turmoil was still standing with her back turned. In the background, Felina saw out of the corner of her eye that the doors of Enforcer Headquarters were opening and several officers began to make their ways outside.

_Must've been barricaded in…_

"You realize," Turmoil said, speaking over her shoulder. "That all of this doesn't change anything."

Felina didn't respond as Turmoil turned around, facing Felina, her dueling sword still in hand.

"Your city's government will return to its corrupt ways. Someone else will rise up to take Dark Kat's place and threaten the citizenry. The gold I've injected into your economy will be squandered. You'll be writing parking tickets, " Turmoil said. "And when all of that happens, I'll be waiting, and return to exact my purpose for this place once again."

Felina frowned, and raised the pistol more aggressively, taking aim.

"Ah," Turmoil said, and then dropped her sword to the street where it clanged loudly, and raised both hands, elbows at her side, in a half-hearted gesture of surrender. "I surrender, Miss Feral. Or, have you finally learned something at last?"

Felina gritted her teeth, the wound on her chest providing a sore reminder about what had almost happened.

"Be bold," Turmoil said. "Set an example and others will follow. Then, just maybe, this weak city will have a chance. Prove yourself by pulling that trigger."

Felina felt the edge of the trigger with her index finger, feeling the smooth curve of it. The hammer was already cocked back. It'd take only the lightest pull.

_How many Enforcers had Turmoil killed during all of this? How many had she hurt? She was going to execute your uncle, the mayor, T-Bone and Callie. She was unapologetic about it, and only by the narrowest of margins was she now standing in front of you, defeated. If you let her live, what's to say she'll stay defeated? Right now you can make sure this never happens again. _

In the distance the Enforcers were making their way forward. In less than a minute they'd reach them.

And that's when Felina recalled her earlier epiphany on the steps of City Hall the day prior.

_Turmoil's offer had been tempting, but like many things in life it would've been too easy. Too easy to just destroy everything instead of making it better. Too easy to ignore solving the city's problems by refocusing on something else. Too easy to blame those in charge, when the responsibility was shared by everyone. Even me…_

Felina lowered the handgun, and pressed forward on the safety switch with her thumb, de-cocking the hammer.

"I don't have to prove anything," Felina said, and then walked away. The last glimpse she had of Turmoil was the beginnings of an expression of anger. Several Enforcers rushed past Felina, and over her shoulder she could hear them taking the would-be despot into custody.

Felina looked toward Enforcer Headquarters and saw the trio of remaining prisoners being freed by several officers. The Mayor appeared relieved, and her uncle was beginning to issue orders to those around him. Callie Briggs glanced in Felina's direction.

T-Bone was nowhere in sight, and Felina sighed. She felt thankful he'd been there, but also guilty he'd had to do what he did on her behalf.

"We don't have a punchcard," a voice said, and Felina saw a familiar face coming through the growing crowd. The same paramedic who'd revived her twice in one night.

"You should," Felina said, and then gestured to her injuries as she limped forward. "Because I think this is worth at least one free sandwich."


	24. Chapter 23

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**CHAPTER 23**

Felina stood at attention, wearing her standard duty uniform. Her first day back on the job, and she had been summoned to the one place everyone on the force dreaded going to.

Commander Feral's office was spacious and sparse, with large windows on three of the four walls that overlooked the recently repaired elevated airstrip and the surrounding city. His desk, which at times seemed to resemble a judge's bench, was clean and organized. A single gold nameplate glinted in the light as the sun was starting to get low on the horizon. A commander's trench-coat with full rank markings was hanging from a nearby coatrack.

He sat at that desk, quietly thumbing through a manilla folder, his posture slightly relaxed as he turned a stapled page. He did so at a slow pace, and while Felina stood there, waiting to be acknowledged, her thoughts began to drift.

It was almost surreal how quickly things could return to normal in Megakat City. Two months had passed since Turmoil's invasion of the city, and there was hardly any evidence that it had ever occurred. Enforcer Headquarters, disabled by the initial attack, was already deploying squadrons in regular intervals from its elevated runways.

Even Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs's life seemed to have returned to normal. Felina had recently caught a glimpse of her on a public access television program in an impromptu debate with the host discussing how best to apply the city's new surplus.

Though, there were less fortunate events that had also quietly transpired. Five Enforcers, three of them pilots, had been killed during Turmoil's invasion. Several dozen more were injured, of which at least half wouldn't be returning to duty anytime soon. Felina had been unable to attend the funerals, as she spent much of her time then recovering in a hospital bed at Megakat Memorial Hospital.

After weeks of physical therapy, she'd finally been able to regain the use of her left arm. If it weren't for the large scar that ran across her forearm, it'd be just the same as it was. Felina had even managed to spend some time with the young girl Katy as their stays overlapped by a few weeks. Katy's mother had recovered from her injuries as well, and the two had checked out with a clean bill of health.

During her time in the hospital, Felina had many visitors. Mostly Enforcer investigators who had a lot of questions to ask. The type of questions that Felina knew she should've probably had an attorney present for. But, she was tired of subterfuge, and answered all questions honestly.

_Well, all except for one._

When one of them had asked if she knew the identities and whereabouts of the SWAT Kats, specifically T-Bone, Felina had executed a poker face she imagined could rival the best.

"I don't," Felina had said.

It was strange thinking of Turmoil as an inspiration for matters concerning honor, but the would-be ruler of Megakat City had preserved the secret identities of the SWAT Kats from outsiders. Even now, as an inmate of Alkatraz Prison, Turmoil had not even hinted at telling the world who they really were. Neither had any of her captured troops, who were kept prisoner far away at Megakat Springs Penitentiary for security reasons.

Razor's plan had worked for the most part. The entire invasion fleet was disabled by the remaining payload of Scrambler missiles the jets still carried, an ironic detail that was probably not lost on Turmoil. Felina knew that not everyone had been captured. To her knowledge, Lt. Durov was still at large.

Callie Briggs had visited numerous times, both in an official capacity as Deputy Mayor with members of the press, and other times in an unofficial capacity as Felina's friend. Felina had always held the media with a little bit of contempt, but she was glad they'd been there to act as witnesses to her duel. Every moment had been caught on camera, briefly elevating Felina to the level of folk-hero in the minds of some. The Mayor's Office had even presented her, in her hospital bed-ridden state, with a medal of commendation. The Mayor himself had even made comments about organizing a parade in her honor.

"I'm sorry," Felina had said once the two of them had been left alone.

"What for?" Callie had asked.

"Before all of this happened, I accused you of spying on me," Felina said. "I was uh…"

"Being a real jerk?" Callie had asked, a small smile on her face.

"Yeah," Felina admitted.

There was more Felina had wanted to say, but expressing her feelings in front of others didn't come naturally to her. Despite that, Callie seemed to understand, and had even come to her aid once again, putting pressure privately on Commander Feral. To do what, Felina was uncertain, as the results of the investigation were unknown to her. No doubt, they were what her uncle was currently thumbing through.

He had visited her once, briefly, while she was in recovery. At the time, the demotion, court martial and other items that had driven a wedge between them the past year didn't seem to matter all that much. For a short while he was something he hadn't really been to her in a long time. Family. But, that had ended, and judging by the current circumstances, things were back to normal.

He turned to the last page of the report in his hands, and then flipped the folder shut, sliding it onto the top of his neatly organized desk. He leaned forward slightly, and emotionlessly spoke.

"At ease," Feral said.

Felina relaxed her posture, moving her right foot so her stance was shoulder-width, and clasped her arms behind her back.

"I've read though the investigator's report," Commander Feral said. "All 235 pages of it."

He closed his eyes and rubbed the ridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb in contemplation.

"There's a lot to take into consideration," he continued, and turned to her, meeting her eyes for the first time since she'd entered the room. "But I have to ask you something, first."

He pushed out from his chair, stood up, walked around to the front of the desk and stood directly in front of Felina. He was one of the few people she knew that stood significantly taller than her, and she looked up, keeping her expression neutral.

"Do you want to die?" Commander Feral asked.

"No, sir," Felina replied.

"I find that hard to believe," Commander Feral said, and then turned away, crossing his arms over his chest as he began to pace. "Given that I just read an account of what had to be the most reckless, ill-advised and downright stupid sequence of actions an Enforcer under my command has ever taken."

Felina remained silent.

"Let's just ignore for the moment all the procedures, rules and potential laws you broke," Commander Feral said. "You put yourself unnecessarily in danger. The most likely outcome, which you've miraculously avoided, was that you'd be killed."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Felina asked.

"You've already acted freely, so you may as well speak freely, too," Commander Feral said, some exasperation in his voice.

"A year ago, I was standing in this same spot, and you asked me a question," Felina said. "You asked me if being here is what I truly wanted."

He continued pacing, turning away from her as she spoke.

"And I have to admit, after being sent to the brig, demoted, getting my wings clipped and sent over to traffic, spending wintertime patrols riding a motorcycle out in the cold weather, I replayed that question over and over in my head, and I wasn't so sure about the answer anymore," Felina said. "Then, to top things off, I got my ass kicked. Badly. So badly, I got knocked out and started having dreams that were like reruns of the History channel. The kind of dreams that lead one to ponder their place in the world, about whether or not they're living up to the legacy of an institution that might just be past its prime."

Feral paused his pacing at that remark.

"So, I decided to do what hardly anyone else in the city seems to be able to do nowadays," Felina said, and took a step forward, breaking her stance, and pointing her thumb at herself. "Like Jonas Spangle, I took responsibility, and I rode that wave of chaos. I didn't know if I'd survive, or if I'd die across my metaphorical helm. We used to be an organization of _action_, uncle. But now, we just sit around, growing bloated, unable to do anything at all. And like all stagnant things, we became infested with parasites that tried to break us from within."

Felina knew that Turmoil had spies in the Enforcers. She had said so herself. It was the only way to account for the several internal failures that had coincidentally occurred at the same time Turmoil had returned with her spoils from Cymric Island. The extent of which hadn't been publicly revealed yet, and Felina knew it was a topic that her uncle was not fond of hearing about. Lt. Commander Steele's actions in negotiating a cease-fire, while pragmatic, and not necessarily the actions of a traitor, had still earned him the ire of many. Ironically, several of those same people had now reversed their opinions on Felina, going so far as to have visited her in the hospital. Even her former supervisor, the Enforcer CAG Gorman, who was the most vocal prosecutor during her court martial, had sent her flowers.

"So, I made a judgement call," Felina said. "You might call it suicidal, but I call it necessary. I didn't know who I could trust, and I wasn't just going to let Turmoil, who'd approached _me_ personally, walk away."

Commander Feral sighed.

"Felina, you're no Jonas Spangle," he said, and then turned around to look at her. "But you're no traffic cop, either."

Felina relaxed her composure slightly at the remark.

"Despite your mission of infiltration being unauthorized and very, very ill-advised," he said. "It did result in some incredibly valuable intelligence. And, your actions, either directly or in part, resulted in the overthrow of Dark Kat's war machine, and the downfall of Turmoil's military. City Hall also doesn't mind the gold bullion, either."

The gold, Felina had learned, was of unknown origin. It showed signs of having been melted down from varying stock, making it impossible to determine who a rightful owner would have been, and as such, it legally fell into the possession of the city. Enforcer patrols had also been sent to scout Cyrmic Island, and they had seen the evidence that corroborated Felina's testimony to the investigators.

"But, even with all of that, in my mind it's still not enough to outweigh what you did," Commander Feral said. "Fortunately for you, you've made friends in very high places. The kind of friends whose opinions I can't just ignore, especially since they've decided to decorate you in medals."

He walked back over to his desk and opened a drawer, withdrawing a closed leatherette box, and then walked up to her, holding it out. She took the box and opened the lid, glancing to see the contents. She withheld showing any kind of joy, thinking it a sign of weakness in front of her uncle, though inside she was smiling. The box contained a silver rectangle insignia lapel pin. The symbol of First Lieutenant.

"Your commission's been reactivated, effective next week," Commander Feral said.

"Yes, sir," Felina said, and stood at attention again.

With that done, he seemed to soften somewhat, as if he'd been holding back how he truly felt about things. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't want you to ever do something like that ever again because you think you can't trust me," he said. "No matter the politics, the rules, or whatever things may come up between you and me."

Felina sighed.

"I won't, uncle," she said.

"Good," he said. "Because as you've so aptly pointed out, there are traitors in our midst, and I find it comforting to know there's at least someone on the force I can trust."

* * *

Despite its rundown aesthetics and poor lighting, Precinct 58 felt like a welcome locale as Felina strode through the front entrance. She only had a few days left as a traffic officer, and then her commission would be active again and she'd get back to her old beat. The sky. She hadn't felt this positive in over a year.

"Feral, the sarge wants to see you," Corporal John Meyers said from behind the dirtied and scuffed window that covered the check-in booth as he pressed a button. The lobby door buzzed open and Felina walked through it.

"Sure thing," Felina said, no longer feeling any apprehension at having to meet with her now temporary superior.

She made her way upstairs, taking each creaking step on the floorboards lightly as she made her way down the hall, arriving at a door with a frosted glass window, the words "SGT DANIELS" etched upon it. Felina gave two quick raps on the glass.

"Enter," a voice called from the other side.

Felina turned the knob and walked inside.

The rundown, wood-patterned aesthetic was still present in abundance, and the exposed pipes near the ceiling creaked as who knew what flowed through them. An old map of Megakat City, yellowed by age with several push pins stuck in it, still hung on the far wall.

His military-surplus desk was still covered in paperwork, though the flesh-colored 15-inch CRT computer monitor was gone, replaced by a more streamlined LCD panel. He leaned back in his chair at Felina's arrival, an amused expression on his face.

"Well, if it isn't the swashbuckling hero of our time," he said sarcastically and clapped his hands in a mocking fashion.

Felina coudn't help but roll her eyes.

"Is there something I can do for you, sarge?" Felina asked.

"No, nothing at all," Daniels said as he stood up, the girth of his stomach making that an impressive feat. "Though I did hear a rumor about your impending return to the steps of Olympus."

"If you're referring to my re-instatement as a first lieutenant," Felina said. "Then you heard correctly."

"It's no surprise," Daniels said, and then made his way to the front of his desk.

Felina was surprised as the normally patronizing Daniels did something unexpected. He extended his hand.

"I've made it my own personal policy to never be sorry," Daniels said. "It can quickly lead to a downward spiral of regret."

Felina quirked an eyebrow as she took his hand and shook it, accepting his non-apology apology.

"I don't know the full story, but I know what I saw on the TV," Daniels continued. "If I ever hear anyone accuse you of being the beneficiary of nepotism, I'll have his badge."

"Well, sarge," Felina said. "You're not such a fat sack of crap after all."

He laughed at the statement in good humor and let go, turning back to his desk.

"Before you leave us, _Lieutenant_, I have one final job for you to take care of," he said.

Felina wondered what that job could be as Daniels turned back around and handed her a torn piece of paper from a legal pad with an address scribbled on it.

"A superintendent at a warehouse called in about some suspicious items left by a tenant that failed to pay their rent," Daniels said. "One of our guys stopped by to investigate it, and he wound up calling me directly afterward. I stopped by myself to have a look."

"What is it?" Felina asked curiously.

"On the record, I found absolutely nothing there," Daniels said. "Off the record, I think you know who it belongs to, and how to contact them."

Felina nodded, not sure if she completely understood.

"You'll understand once you see it," Daniels said. "And if you could, maybe get me an autograph? My kids love them."

"I'll see what I can do," Felina said, and was about to leave the room, but paused. "Any chance there's a car available?"

Daniels smirked.

"Take your pick."

* * *

"I'm sorry we couldn't visit you in the hospital," Jake Clawson said as he exited the passenger-side door of the now parked tow truck.

"I understand," Felina said. "Couldn't risk exposing your identities amid all that scrutiny. The flowers were nice."

"Least we could do," Chance Furlong now said, exiting from the driver's side.

"You finish fixing that secret base of yours?" Felina asked.

"Sort of," Jake said, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "The hole's patched up, and the runway cleared out."

"And thankfully no one's around to ask any questions," Chance said. "Well, no one with an IQ above 80, anyway."

"Never thought I'd be thankful to have Burke and Murray as our most frequent visitors," Jake said with a sigh.

"Though, none of that really matters, seeing as there's nothing secret to put in that base anymore," Chance muttered with more than a hint of frustration.

Both of them appeared to have recovered from their injuries. Fortunately for them, the hospital had been so overrun and busy that Jake had never even been formally processed upon his admittance. The staff had likely assumed he was just another bystander caught in the crossfire, so the normal gunshot wound procedures associated with contacting the Enforcers had been postponed. When Felina had wheeled him out it was as if he'd never been there.

Chance's wounds had already been treated by one of Turmoil's medical corps-women for reasons she'd guessed at earlier: that she had wanted him alive and well for his execution, much as Dark Kat had been.

Both looked physically well, but something still seemed amiss about the two of them. She knew the SWAT Kats had been dealt a heavy blow that they had yet to recover from, though she had a feeling things were about to get a little better.

Felina was leaning back on the hood of the new squad car that had been issued to her, her arms crossed. She had been waiting for nearly an hour in front of 1021 Corbin Drive where a large, rundown building that looked more like a remnant from the Industrial Revolution than a modern place of business occupied over an acre of land. She hadn't seen anyone for several blocks when she'd arrived in the neighborhood.

"So, why did you call us here?" Chance asked.

Jake looked toward Felina, his expression suggesting he was about to ask the same thing.

"Well, I didn't want to say over the phone why," Felina said as she walked around to the back of the squad car and opened up the trunk. She reached inside and withdrew a large set of bolt cutters.

"Catch," she said, and tossed them.

Jake caught them easily and quirked an eyebrow.

"Go see what's behind door number one," Felina said, feigning the inflection of a gameshow host.

"Okay," Jake said, and walked over to a large metal sliding door that had several padlocked chains keeping it shut.

"Need any help with that, buddy?" Chance called out.

"I got this," Jake said, and began to go to work to free the door.

He was just far enough away to be out of earshot, a fact that Chance seemed to have been waiting for.

"You okay?" Chance asked, standing next to Felina now.

"Could be worse," Felina said. "I'm getting my commission back."

"You deserve it," Chance said. "You're a bonafide hero."

"Well, I dunno about that," Felina remarked.

"You saved our lives," Chance said. "The city, too."

Jake grunted loudly, and there was a loud snapping click as one of the chains broke.

"Well, couldn't have done it without you guys," Felina said. "After all, you saved my life, too."

"Yeah…" Chance said, and then rubbed the back of his head, looking down at the dirtied pavement.

"I know it mustn't have been easy," Felina said.

"Truth be told, it's not the first time I've had to do something like that," Chance said, and closed his eyes. "And it never gets any easier. No matter how justified it was."

"If it's any consolation, the Commander isn't actively trying to press any kind of charges," Felina said. "Probably has something to do with the fact that it was _me_ who was about to get a hole put in her head."

Chance seemed lost in thought as he replied.

"When Jake and I first decided to get involved in this hero thing, we never thought about how much it'd complicate things," Chance said. "Hindsight's a real pain."

"Well, what's done is done," Felina said. "And, I thank you for that."

"Would you have done the same for me?" Chance asked.

"Without hesitation," Felina said. "In fact, I'd have probably shot twice."

There was another loud snap-click as Jake broke through another chain.

"It wasn't easy to do," Chance said. "I did hesitate when I had that red beret in my sights. I never felt so unsure about something in my life. But, I realized there was no way I wasn't going to walk away from that situation without some kind of regret. So, I picked the regret I'd have to shoulder the responsibility for. The one with you still alive."

Felina nodded, trying not to let the warmness of the remark influence her composure. It was the sincerity in his voice. Genuine caring. Not the gung-ho posturing he showed the world as T-Bone. It was surprisingly refreshing.

"We live our lives by doing things the hard way," Felina said. "If we wanted things easy, we would've done so a long time ago."

Chance looked up at her when she spoke those words, with a look as if she had read his mind.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Chance said.

Another snap-click resounded, followed by the sound of metal scraping against metal as the chains holding the large sliding door closed fell down to the ground. Jake grabbed at the door's handle with both hands and began to slowly pull it open. Whatever bearings were in the sliding mechanism groaned from a combination of poor maintenance and age.

In moments the interior was illuminated by the outside light, and the contents of the building came into view. Chance glanced up, and his somber expression changed in an instant, replaced by a wry grin.

Jake peered around the open door, and placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head in amazement.

Despite having several access ports, panels and other modular components removed, the signature jet of the SWAT Kats, the Turbokat, rested intact within. On several tables various pieces of gear and technology were also placed about in an organized fashion. Several computers, displays and freestanding whiteboards with various technical imagery could also be seen.

"Turmoil used this place as a staging area to reverse-engineer your stuff," Felina said, walking forward. "When the rent wasn't paid, the property owner stopped by. Called the Enforcers when he saw all this. Luckily for you, this is Sergeant Daniel's area, my supervisor. He also happens to be a fan of the SWAT Kats, or at least his kids are."

Jake stepped inside and walked up to the Turbokat, looking it over.

"Everything looks intact," Jake said.

"No kidding," Chance said, now standing inside as he picked up a jetpack from a table and began to look it over.

"So, I take it the SWAT Kats are no longer out of business?" Felina asked.

Jake and Chance cast each other a glance, wordlessly communicating.

"I think that's a big yes," Chance said, turning his attention back to Felina. He walked up to her, and held out his hand.

She took it, clutching it in an extended handshake, both of them feeling the power of each other's grip.

"We owe you, lieutenant," Chance said.

"Seriously," Jake said. "If there's ever anything we can do, let us know."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," Felina said as she let go.

Jake returned back to the assortment of technology behind him. She suspected he was doing all he could to restrain his giddiness at having all of his stolen inventions back in his possession. Chance turned to go help his partner, but not before giving her one last glance over his shoulder.

All of the hostility she had felt toward him, the feelings of mistrust and betrayal, being taken advantage of and made to feel stupid. All of those things were gone. There was something new there in his eyes. Respect. The kind of respect one had towards their equal.

Without the mask, to everyone else, he was just plain old Chance Furlong. And even though she knew who the SWAT Kats really were, and the less-than-dignified background for how they'd become vigilantes, she still felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She'd never admit it out loud, but being regarded as an equal by the SWAT Kats felt good. Vindicating, even.

Her uncle was right, too, she supposed. She wasn't some legendary figure like Jonas Spangle, fighting against pirates on the high seas. But, she had to admit, there were some similarities. Who knew? In two hundred years would people talk about Turmoil's invasion of the city, and the lone Enforcer who stood up and fought against all odds?

_Probably not._

And, she didn't really care, either. Her experience was one _she'd_ remember, and try to take to heart. When Chance had told her she was the only constant in her life, he was right. It was time to stop being so adversarial. Time to stop looking for the insult in things. Time to stop fighting herself, as she'd envisioned herself doing.

_Sometimes, you have to know when to rely on others._

The SWAT Kats had done so. And with time and a little effort, Felina thought, so could she.

"Three-five niner, what's your situation?" the StarCom radio chirped on Felina's shoulder.

She reached over and pressed the transmit button, not breaking Chance's eye contact.

"Situation is ten twenty-four."


	25. Epilogue

Title: Ten Twenty-Four  
Date: June 26, 2013  
Author: MoDaD  
Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, War  
Rating: T  
Words: 87,825 (236 pages)  
Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe  
Notes: This is a sequel to _My Responsibility_ and _Last Names_ and contains spoilers for those stories. Summary written by Kristen Sharpe.

**Summary:** Busted down to traffic cop with her wings clipped, Felina Feral seems to have hit rock bottom. An unexpected offer too good to be true and too tempting to ignore might take her back to the skies. But, before she can decide what she wants, she has to realize who she is.

* * *

**EPILOGUE – CHANCE FURLONG**

"Okay, if you manage to follow the motions exactly how I wrote them out, you should have fifteen minutes," the voice of Razor came through clearly in T-Bone's helmet earpiece.

There was just a hint of annoyance in his voice, and T-Bone couldn't blame him.

_He's already put up with so much already, and here I am testing his patience again._

"Copy that," T-Bone said, his eyes narrowing.

He was standing inside the Turbokat's bomb bay, hunched over in the narrow space. Razor was at the controls, leading them in a pass over what would hopefully be an unsuspecting target. He scratched at his shoulder. Though it had been over three months since he'd been shot, he still didn't feel 100% healed. He wondered if it was just his imagination at this point.

_Probably just nervous._

He was about to make a high altitude jump from a speeding jet onto a small island in the middle of a large body of water. On that island was a prison, with several armed guards, a state-of-the-art surveillance systems, and a no tolerance policy for unauthorized visitors. It was Alkatraz, after all.

But, none of that was what made him nervous.

"Okay…set," Razor said.

T-Bone took one last glance at the gear he had strapped to himself.

"Ready," T-bone replied and gripped an internal hard point to steady himself.

Underneath, the doors slid open, revealing a black expanse far below. It was the middle of a moonless night, deliberately chosen for the level of darkness it provided. Wind gusted into the bay.

"In three…two…one…" Razor counted down. "Jump!"

T-Bone released his handholds and fell through the opening, feeling his stomach rise up into his chest. The wind gusts had quieted down slightly, and he could see the silhouette of the Turbokat streak away, its engines glowing behind it. It looked like a ghost in the green glow of the night vision his helmet's visor granted him.

Now he was falling downward, toward a lone target that was illuminated in the sea of black. Alkatraz Prison was somewhat of an anachronism, having been built over a century ago as a military fortress, featuring the architecture of a bygone era. Its large walls and remote location made it an ideal location to hold dangerous criminals. To T-Bone's knowledge, no one had ever escaped alive.

He forced his body to fall head-first, head down, accelerating his descent.

The island grew larger. The altimeter in the heads-up display of his helmet's visor ticked down. 5000 feet. 4000 feet. He would have to open his chute at just the right moment to avoid being seen by the numerous spotlights that were currently sweeping the interior and exterior of the prison, along with any other observers. But he couldn't wait too long, or risk becoming a smear on the ground.

_2000 feet. 1000 feet. _

He moved his arms to produce some drag to right his body.

_500 feet. _

The island now filled his vision as he pulled the ripcord. In an instant his harness tugged sharply on his body as his descent began to slow. He was still falling, and he yanked on the toggles. The ground rushed up at him, slightly angled, as his feet skidded into the dirt. He dropped and rolled, feeling the impact of a less-than-perfect landing.

He quickly got to his feet, tugging on the lines of his chute to bunch up the canopy as best as he could, shoving it against the seam where the ground met the wall. He'd landed where he expected to, on the east end outside the primary wall. A spotlight was sweeping toward his direction, and he pinned himself flush to the ground. It moved slowly, but passed just overhead.

He sighed, glad he'd had the foresight to use a black parachute.

He'd chosen this particular area of the island as his landing zone because it was one of the few security camera blind-spots. A narrow area next to the wall. Go too far to the left, right or toward the shore, and you'd be seen. But, if you came from above at just the right angle, you could slip in. Judging by the lack of alarms, he'd managed to do just that.

_Alright, now for the hard part._

T-Bone adjusted the Glovatrix attached to his forearm and then pressed a button on his visor. The green glow of night vision was replaced with the red and blue hues of infrared. He craned his neck to find what he was looking for. Closed circuit cameras. The nearest one elevated on a mount just 20 feet away. He took aim with the Glovatrix and fired.

He heard the subdued puff of compressed air as his Glovatrix quietly fired a dart that impacted the camera like a two-pronged fork. The briefest of sparks could be seen as the item attached.

The darts were high tech prototypes developed by Razor. They carried some kind of hardware package that would loop the image the camera was displaying. T-Bone had no idea how they worked, even after Razor had explained it. All he knew was that any camera shot with a dart would not show what was in front of it.

He repeated the process, taking aim at other cameras. In moments, he had created a safe path, and he began to hastily jog across it, heading toward an access door. The door was adjacent to an office where a guard sat behind a desk, the large windows emphasizing observation making it easy to see.

Discreetly, T-Bone aimed his Glovatrix and fired his grappling hook. It attached to the wall above the office and quickly pulled him upward. In an instant, he landed quietly on his feet, standing on the roof. The movement had been fast enough that the guard had not spotted him. He crouched down, and leaned over the edge. He was right next to the door, and the guard's back was to him. He steadily flipped over, his muscles straining as he softly lowered himself. He fell noiseless into a crouch, now at the door. He had to hurry. If the guard so much as looked over his shoulder it'd all be over.

T-Bone raised his Glovatrix and deployed the lock-cracker, inserting the tip of it into the door. In moments there was just the softest click, and he bit his lip, hoping the guard hadn't heard it.

The guard didn't seem to notice, and leaned back in his seat, yawning.

T-Bone grabbed the door with both hands and opened it, side-stepping through it, and closed it behind himself. The lights of the interior were dim, allowing for shadows along the walls. He moved along them, using the enhanced vision his visor gave him to spot cameras. He disabled them one after another as he made his way deeper into the prison. He used his lock-cracker to get through several barred security doors. Every so often he had to take cover, once suspending himself on the ceiling to avoid the guards that patrolled the corridors.

It was a tedious process, and he began to feel the sweat build up on his brow. His mission clock read ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

And then, he was there. A large sign on the wall read CELL BLOCK DELTA. A section reserved for high risk inmates. Guards patrolled the perimeter constantly. As one in particular came around a corner, T-Bone dropped in silently behind him, crouched down low, keeping under his field of view. It was a difficult task, considering his build, but with great effort the large SWAT Kat managed to pull it off, staying just behind the guard until he arrived at one cell: D17. The entrance to the cell was a large reinforced door, with a 6 inch by 6 inch observation window and meal slot.

T-Bone flattened his back against the wall nearest the door as the guard continued on his way forward. One again, he lifted up his Glovatrix and let the lock-cracker do its work. The lock in the door clicked softly, and in one swift movement he swung the door open and let himself inside, closing it behind himself.

"You make it look easy," a familiar voice said.

T-Bone stood up from his crouch, and faced the occupant, flipping his visor up and viewing the dimly lit cell with his naked eyes.

Turmoil, wearing an orange jumpsuit, was leaning on the far wall of the cell, her arms crossed, her gaze looking out the three-inch wide slit window that overlooked the interior of the prison's courtyard. He could just barely see her in the low light.

"Well," T-Bone said, just now realizing that his pulse was racing, "it wasn't."

No, none of what he'd just done had made him nervous. It was who was in front of him now that did.

"So, T-Bone," Turmoil said as she sauntered forward, "what brings you here?"

T-Bone tensed as she approached as he started to experience a mixture of feelings he'd yet to fully sort out. His mind raced with the possibilities, and he discreetly swallowed, hoping that it wasn't too noticeable.

_No, you're here to do one thing, and one thing only._

He crossed his arms, and lowered his voice, trying his best to sound intimidating.

"I came here to tell you that things between you and me," T-Bone said as he pointed a finger toward her and then himself, "are over."

He realized how absurd that statement sounded. The kind of declaration a normal person in a normal relationship might have made. It seemed so out of place now, especially considering he was making it to the woman who'd only three months earlier been minutes away from not only killing him but killing Callie, Commander Feral and the mayor.

_Also, Felina…_

He'd considered her name separately, because she occupied a special place in his mind. He wasn't sure what feelings he actually had toward her. Sure, there was an attraction he felt, he supposed. But it was strange. She reminded him way too much of himself, with all the stubbornness to match. She was also the reason he'd had to cross a line he'd hoped he wouldn't ever have to cross again.

Being on the Enforcer's Quick Reaction Force prior to qualifying as a pilot, he'd had his fair share of dangerous missions that involved the use of lethal force. They weren't incidents he liked to dwell on, and at the time others had been involved, so responsibility couldn't be purely pinned on any one individual. Still, he had no doubt that when he'd pulled the trigger alongside his team members in the past, his bullets had taken lives.

It was an aspect of crime fighting he'd always dreaded. One that he'd had a fairly good understanding of with Jake when they'd become vigilantes. SWAT Kats. It was a wordless understanding, shaped by their similar backgrounds. They wouldn't kill anyone. Not if they could avoid it. It was a policy that had maintained for years, and not counting any number of abnormal creatures, monsters or other artificial entities, the SWAT Kats had managed to keep a perfect record. Sure, there had been close calls. Some way too close for comfort, even. But at the end of the day, their hands were clean.

That had changed when Captain Elizaveta decided to pull that Stechkin on a defeated Felina Feral.

In truth, even after a 7.62×51mm round had gone through his shoulder, he could have still managed to escape from Turmoil after he'd been captured. But, in his condition and the situation he was placed in, he couldn't save Callie, or Feral, or the mayor, too. So, he waited, and bided his time. Hoping for an opportunity. Hoping that Felina had gotten to Jake.

What did happen was unexpected, and when he saw Felina marching down Main Street wearing her full dress blues, Mameluke sword in hand, he didn't know what to think. But, as the then former lieutenant issued her challenge, it all made sense.

_Turmoil would fall for it._

T-Bone knew Turmoil's actions were all a front, masquerading as some kind of overly dramatic expression of honorable conquest. He knew the truth, though. Her _ego_ would not allow the challenge to go unanswered.

As soon as the swords were drawn, he knew it was just a matter of time until whatever plan Jake had concocted would come into play. And, it did, though he was biting his lip near panic the entire time. He made himself feel every slash, every cut, every wound Felina was enduring, right before his eyes.

Right when it looked like it was going to be over, when Turmoil had that sword ready to thrust into her heart, he'd scrambled against his restraints, putting that escape-artistry advice Jake had given him years ago into play. He'd managed to free himself, and was about to go charging down the steps of Enforcer Headquarters when everything turned to chaos. Turmoil's Turbokats turned against her, neutralizing her forces.

And then, that damn red beret showed up again. Shot the remaining commandeered Turbokat out of the sky, effectively killing the advance, and leaving Felina exposed. They were a good 75 yards away. No way he could run the distance in time. Elizaveta had already drawn her sidearm and was taking aim.

Before he knew it, the rifle was in his hands. One of Turmoil's soldiers had lost it amid the confusion. It felt foreign in his grasp. The stock not as ergonomic as the M16A2s he'd been taught to use in BCT. But the fundamentals came back to him. Muscle memory he'd thought long lost returned in an instant.

_Pull back charging handle. Fire select switched. Front sight aligned with rear sight. On target. Breathe…_

The red beret filled the iron sights of the weapon. All the pain in his shoulder that had been protesting earlier was gone, his hold on the rifle perfectly steady.

Time had slowed. A last minute hesitation cropped up in his mind. Everything he'd strived for, what both he and Jake had strived for, was now at risk. He knew that if he went ahead with this, it'd be undoable.

He saw Elizaveta's thumb pull back on the hammer, switching it to single action. He knew it was the last step before an execution style shot would be taken.

_If Felina dies, that's pretty undoable, too…_

He pulled the trigger. Whether it was because of his injuries, the stress of the situation, or just his imagination, he didn't recall hearing the shot. All he'd seen was the tall and imposing Captain Elizaveta, the very skilled and very dangerous right hand of Turmoil, abruptly succumb to gravity and fall to the ground next to a surprised looking Felina Feral.

He hated that he'd done that. There was no team to share the action with this time. It was just him.

He hated that he'd allowed himself to get in that kind of situation. To him, it was the end result of a long series of bad decisions made ever since the woman standing in front of him had entered his life. A woman who he thought he had the potential to love.

But now, that was an impossibility. He supposed that if he were honest with himself, it had always been an impossibility.

Turmoil paused her advance, and her expression turned to that of amusement at T-Bone's statement.

"It's not so much the words, but the way you say them," Turmoil said with a smile.

T-Bone felt himself growing angry, and his hands turned to fists. He could feel his knuckles crack at the motion.

"Was it too much? Did I finally defeat the self-righteous SWAT Kat?" Turmoil asked, plainly trying to increase his ire.

"Maybe," T-Bone said through clenched teeth.

"It must be an exciting new world for you," Turmoil said. "Killing your enemies makes things so much simpler, wouldn't you agree?"

He lifted his hand and pointed a finger at her, keeping his voice down as best he could.

"It's not like that," he began.

"Though, I do regret and mourn the loss of Captain Elizaveta," Turmoil said, once again moving forward, her tone suggesting otherwise, "but, she was a soldier. She lived in a world free from regrets, without any of your precious, misguided moralities getting in the way. It's a world you've dipped your toes into. The water's fine, T-Bone. Why not jump the rest of the way in?"

She had reached him, and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Despite everything that had occurred, everything he felt, all the anger, frustrations and betrayals. Despite the fact that this woman had pointed a gun in his face, threatened to kill him, had him shot and used as a prop in an attempt to overthrow the city, threatened and nearly killed his friends, he still couldn't deny the way she made him feel. He felt warm at her presence as she leaned forward and kissed him.

He closed his eyes, and did not pull away for several minutes.

As the contact ended, he reached up and took Turmoil's hands off his shoulders, and delicately pushed them away. She frowned at the act, her earlier amusement disappearing.

"I'm not here to help you escape," T-Bone said.

"I see," Turmoil said, and took a step back.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, as if preparing herself for some terrible thing.

"I'm not here to kill you, either," T-Bone said.

She opened her eyes, a look of what seemed to be disappointment on her face.

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

He crossed his arms again, trying to summon that anger he'd felt earlier, but he couldn't find it. Instead, he felt empty. And tired.

"Like I said," T-Bone repeated. "It's over between you and me."

"You delude yourself," Turmoil said. "You and I are far too perfect together."

"Maybe," T-Bone said. "But life isn't perfect, and around you, it has a habit of getting cut short."

Turmoil sighed and shook her head, the look of amusement once again on her face.

"I won't be in here forever," Turmoil said with a confidence that made him feel certain her words were true.

"I know," T-Bone said.

"And if we meet out there again, I won't be so kind," Turmoil said, her eyes narrowing.

"I know," T-Bone said. "And just so you know, I won't be, either."

Turmoil allowed T-Bone the last word as he turned away, quietly exiting the cell and locking it behind himself. He stealthily made his way carefully along the same path he had taken, avoiding the guards and taking advantage of the already disabled security cameras. The return trip was shorter, and he managed to make his way outside in seven minutes. The last door with the seated guard had been the most challenging obstacle, but he had managed to make it out undetected.

The salty breeze coming off the waters of Megakat Bay filled his nostrils, and in the dead silence of the night he could hear the waves lightly crash against the island's shores in the distance. Through the night vision filter of his visor the waves moved in and out in an eery green glow.

He walked away from the walls, keeping crouched down low, being careful to avoid the spotlights that swept back and forth. His footholds became less stable as the ground softened. He had reached the beach, and each step he took kicked up a bit of sand as he walked.

He glanced over his shoulder to see the high walls of Alkatraz a safe distance away. He sighed as he pressed a button on his Glovatrix. He knew it would send out a signal to the electronic darts, causing them to sizzle from the inside out, destroying their respective payloads. They'd turn to ash, leaving no evidence of intrusion, returning the cameras to normal. No one else would ever know he'd been there.

He pressed the transmit button on the side of his helmet as he spoke softly.

"Ready for pick up," he said.

"Roger that," Razor returned.

Around his feet he could feel the sand start to vibrate, and the area around him became awash in rapidly moving air. He looked up and saw the Turbokat swing down low, using its vertical thrusters to slow its descent into a brief hover. It would kill the jet's forward momentum just long enough for him to grab the grappling cable that was hanging out the bomb bay's open doors. The cable dragged along the sand, and he reached at it with both hands, gripping it tightly. In an instant he was yanked off the ground and pulled upwards.

Through his visor, T-Bone saw that the noise of the Turbokat's engines had attracted the attention of one of the guards along the wall, who was now shining the spotlight in the area he'd just been standing in. But it was too slow to have seen anything, as the Turbokat was now high in the sky.

The grappling cable retracted, pulling him back inside. The doors closed, cutting off the maelstrom of wind, allowing him to hear the steady rumble of the jet's engines from within. It was like a heartbeat, and from the sound of it, everything was running okay.

He reached upward and ascended, taking the sliding trapdoor that deposited him into the rear-seat of the Turbokat's cockpit. It was strange, he supposed, to be in Razor's seat.

"So?" Razor asked from the pilot's seat.

Never had so short a question deserved such a long response. There were a lot of things T-Bone wanted to say. But he knew that Razor, that Jake, already knew all of them.

Things had changed. Callie Briggs had learned their secret identities. So had Lieutenant Felina Feral. The SWAT Kats had been bested, thoroughly, and forced to rely on the help of others. One SWAT Kat in particular had even taken someone's life, and no matter now justified the circumstances, it set an uncomfortable precedent. Megakat City was on the verge of collapse, but it had been given a second chance. Its citizens, both large and small, public and private, had resisted an easy solution, and kept their souls in the process. But, as with all hard choices, the threat of consequence loomed.

Dark Kat was dead, Turmoil imprisoned, the city boosted with ill-gotten gold, and the leadership reaching some kind of understanding with the people. They were relatively good things, but how long it'd all last, T-Bone couldn't say for sure. He'd made choices he regretted, and he knew that he couldn't dwell on them. He had to keep looking forward. Keep moving ahead.

On that day he'd been kicked off the force and sent to work as a junkman he couldn't imagine things ever getting worse. He'd found that not to be true, as his life had continued in an uncertain spiral. Matters of life and death had almost become day-to-day affairs. But, that was the price of it. The price of the mask. The price of being a SWAT Kat.

And one of those prices was being paid now, as he glanced out the canopy at Alkatraz down far below, where the woman who'd had such a mysterious control over his heart was. Though, he wondered, maybe it wasn't her. Just the idea of her. That escape he'd never ever truly be able to take.

"So?" T-Bone repeated. "So, I need a drink, buddy."

"The lieutenant was offering to buy last I checked," Razor said.

_The lieutenant. Felina Feral. Now there's a good drinking buddy._

He couldn't help but recall Turmoil's words in jest that evening they'd shared a meal before their assault on Dark Kat's island.

_"You two would make a great couple," Turmoil had said in a mocking tone._

He entertained the notion in his mind, and decided that crazier things had happened.

"Well, let's not keep her waiting," T-Bone said as he leaned back in the seat. "And, try not to scratch the paint on the landing."

* * *

_End._

* * *

_Special thanks to Kristen Sharpe for beta reading and for providing the story's summary._


End file.
